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BOSWELL^ 

LIFE      OF 
JOHNSON 


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BOSWELL'S 

LIFE    OF    JOHNSON 

EDITED   BY 

AUGUSTINE     BIRRELL 

IN      SIX      VOLUMES 
VOL,      I 


ARCHIBALD   CONSTABLE  AND  CO 
1896 


Digitized  by  tlie  Internet  Arcliive 

in  2007  witli  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.arcliive.org/details/boswellslifeofjo01boswiala 


INTRODUCTION 

More  than  sixty  years  ago,  Carlyle,  writing  in  Fratter's 
Magazine,  observed  in  that  manner  of  his  which  has 
now  become  part  of  our  incorporate  existence,  that 
the  new  edition  of  Boswell,  then  lately  undertaken 
by  Mr.  Croker^  was  a  praiseworthy  but  no  miraculous 
procedure — in  no  way  an  event  in  universal  history, 
and  indeed  in  very  truth  one  of  the  most  insignificant 
of  things. 

If  that  were  true  in  1832  of  so  pretentious  an 
edition  of  Boswell's  Johnson  as  Mr.  Croker's,  the 
insignificance  of  the  present  publication  is  almost 
startling.  Boswell's  immortal  biography  has  been  re- 
printed many  times  since  the  date  of  Carlyle's  fomous 
article,  and  in  our  own  immediate  hour  we  have 
had  the  advantage  of  re-reading  it  in  the  careful 
and  interesting  edition  of  the  late  Mr.  Napier,  as 
well  as  in  the  splendid  volumes  of  my  revered  friend. 
Dr.  Birkbeck  Hill,  whose  eager  and  unresting  toil  and 
minute  diligence  has  left  scarce  anything  behind  him 
for  even  the  most  humble-minded  of  gleaners  in  the 
Johnsonian  fields. 

When  you  know  you  must  be  beaten,  the  wisest 
course  is  to  decline  competition. 


viii  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON 

The  merit  of  these  volumes  is  all  or  nearly  all 
Boswell's  and  the  printers',  a  race  of  men  whose 
services  in  the  cause  of  letters  Dr.  Johnson,  who 
knew  '  The  Trade  '  from  top  to  bottom,  never  forgot 
Who  does  not  remember  the  famous  occasion  when 
he  apologised  to  a  compositor .-'  '  Mr.  Compositor,  I 
ask  your  pardon.  Mr.  Compositor,  I  ask  your  pardon, 
again  and  again.'  Any  merit  that  is  not  Boswell's  or 
the  printers'  belongs  to  Mr.  Edmund  Malone,  whose 
Life,  by  Sir  James  Prior,  is  well  worth  the  two  or  three 
shillings  which  is  all  the  second-hand  booksellers  are 
in  the  habit  of  asking  for  it 

The  biography  itself  first  appeared  in  two  com- 
fortable quartos  in  1791,  no  less  than  four  years  after 
the  authorised  biography  by  Johnson's  literary  executor. 
Sir  John  Hawkins.  The  second  edition  followed  in 
1793.  Boswell  died  in  1795.  The  third  edition  was 
intrusted  to  Malone,  and  bears  date  1799.  Malone 
died  in  1812,  having  lived  to  see  the  sixth  (1811) 
edition  through  the  press. 

The  notes  in  the  present  edition  are  for  the  most 
part  to  be  found  in  Malone's  editions  :  my  own  notes 
are  few  and  far  between.  I  made  many  notes,  but  on 
reflection  I  have  struck  most  of  them  out,  feeling 
myself  convinced  not  of  their  worthlessness  but  of 
their  unimportance.  The  unsigned  and  unbracketed 
notes  are  Boswell's.  The  notes  signed  M.  are  Malone's. 
Those  signed  A.  B.  are  mine.  The  other  notes  bear 
the  names  of  their  makers. 

The  English-speaking  race  is  only  just  beginning  to 


INTRODUCTION  ix 

enter  into  its  huge  and  glorious  inheritance  of  litera- 
ture. The  number  of  persons  who  have  never  read 
Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson^  and  who  yet  are  capable 
of  enjoying  it  to  the  tips  of  their  fingers,  is  enormous, 
and  yearly  increases.  To  get  hold  of  these  people,  to 
thrust  Boswell  into  their  hands^  to  obtrude  him  upon 
their  notice,  and  thus  to  capture  their  intelligence  and 
engage  their  interest,  is  the  work  of  the  missionary  of 
letters,  who  does  not  need  to  encumber  himself  with 
the  commentators,  but  only  to  do  all  that  he  can  to 
circulate  the  original  text  in  the  most  convenient  and 
attractive  form.  It  is  not  laziness  or  indifference 
which  prompts  me  to  say  this,  but  holy  zeal  and  the 
most  absolute  conviction. 

After  all,  the  book  is  the  thing.  Literature  was 
meant  to  give  pleasure,  to  excite  interest,  to  banish 
solitude,  to  make  the  fireside  more  attractive  than  the 
tavern,  to  give  joy  to  those  who  are  still  capable 
of  joy,  and — why  should  we  not  admit  it? — to  drug 
sorrow  and  divert  thought. 

There  is  a  pestilent  notion  abroad,  at  least  so  it 
seems  to  me,  that  all  our  best  books,  our  classics,  were 
written  either  for  children  or  for  learned  or  half- 
learned  editors  and  teachers,  or  it  may  be  even  for 
lecturers ;  and  yet  Dr.  Swift  did  not  originally  intend 
Gulliver's  Travels  for  the  nursery,  nor  did  Sir  Walter 
Scott,  when  he  published  most  of  the  Waverley  novels 
in  three  volumes  octavo  at  the  price  of  thirty-one 
shillings  and  sixpence,  think  he  was  competing  with 
good  Mr.  Newbery's  successor  in  St.  Paul's  Churchyard. 

VOL.  I.  h 


X  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON 

Children  are  all  very  well,  and  the  sooner  they  are 
introduced  to  Shakespeare  and  Scott  the  better  ;  hut 
it  is  men  and  women  who  bear  the  burden  of  life  and 
the  heat  of  the  day,  and  it  was  for  them  that  literature 
was  intended. 

As  for  the  learned  editors  who  load  the  page  of 
their  author  with  notes  and  references  and  cross- 
references,  personally  I  delight  in  their  labours  and 
reverence  their  devotion ;  but  in  the  first  instance, 
at  all  events  (I  repeat),  the  book  is  the  thing.  Leave 
Boswell  alone  to  tell  his  own  tale,  to  make  his  own 
impression.  This  once  done,  the  commentators  will 
march  in  through  the  breach  Boswell  has  made. 

But  for  teachers  and  examiners,  I  hold  the  whole 
tribe  in  abhorrence.  I  hate  to  see  them  annexing 
fresh  domains  to  their  gloomy  empire.  '  Examiners  ! 
hands  ofiF ! '  is  surely  a  natural  exclamation  as  their 
spears  blacken  the  horizon.  Our  lives  do  not  terminate 
in  the  torture-chambers  of  the  examiner,  and  we 
shall  sorely  need  the  solace  of  books  like  Boswell's 
long  after  we  have  bidden  class-room  and  senate- 
house  an  eternal  farewell.  I  never  could  bring 
myself  to  take  any  pleasure  in  Calverley's  famous 
Imaginary  Examination  Paper  on  Pickwick.  It  made 
me  uneasy,  since  it  showed  dull  fools  how  the  thing 
might  be  done  in  deadly  earnest 

There  is  perhaps  no  book  in  the  whole  range  of  English 
literature  so  richly  endowed  with  those  qualities  of 
interest,  charm,  humour,  and  life  which  go  to  make 
up  enjoyment,  as  Boswell's  lAfe  of  Johnson.     To  begin 


INTRODUCTION  ad 

with,  it  is  a  big  book.  It  is  all  well  enough  in  sundry 
moods  to  love  to  be  confined  within  a  scanty  plot  of 
ground — and  who  can  be  otherwise  than  alive  to  the 
fascination  of  such  a  short  story  as  La  Grande  Breteche, 
or  of  such  a  short  autobiography  as  Gibbon's? — but 
amidst  the  ups  and  downs  of  life,  for  all  the  days  of 
the  week  and  the  years  of  one's  days,  there  is  nothing 
so'attractive,  so  provocative  of  affection,  as  a  big  book — 
that  is,  a  long  book,  a  crowded  gallery,  a  busy  thorough- 
fare, with  all  its  fleeting  figures,  its  chance  references, 
its  waifs  and  strays  of  character.  Nothing  else  so 
stirs  our  sluggish  imagination  or  so  penetrates  us 
with  the  '  stir  of  existence,'  with  the  sweet,  sad  music 
of  humanity. 

No  writer  I  know  of  has  brought  out  the  fascination 
of  these  large  canvases  with  more  moving  effect  than 
the  man  whose  name  I  have  already  mentioned  with 
the  respect  due  to  the  greatest  author  the  century 
has  seen,  Thomas  Carlyle.  With  what  a  devouripg 
eye  had  he  read  his  Clarendon  and  his  BosweU  ! — his 
own  pages  are  rich  with  their  recollections. 

'Wq  ourselves  can  remember  reading  in  Lord 
Clarendon  with  feelings  perhaps  somehow  accidentally 
opened  to  it — certainly  with  a  depth  of  impression 
strange  to  us  then  and  now — that  insignificant-looking 
passage  where  Charles,  after  the  battle  of  Worcester, 
glides  down  with  Squire  Careless  from  the  Royal  Oak 
at  nightfall,  heing  hungry ;  how,  making  a  shift  to  get 
over  hedges  and  ditches,  after  walking  at  least  eight 
or  nine  miles,  which  were  the  more  grievous  to  the 


zU  LIFE  OF   DR.    JOHNSON 

king  by  the  weight  of  his  boots,  before  morning  they 
came  to  a  poor  cottage,  the  owner  whereof  being  « 
Roman  Catholic  was  known  to  Careless.  How  this  poor 
drudge,  being  knocked  up  from  his  snoring,  carried 
them  into  a  little  barn  full  of  hay,  which  was  a  better 
lodging  than  he  had  for  himself,  and  hy-and-hy,  not 
without  difficulty,  brought  his  Majesty  "a  piece  of 
bread  and  a  great  pot  of  butter-milk,"  saying  candidly 
that "  he  himself  lived  byhis  dailylabour,  and  that  what 
he  had  brought  him  was  the  fare  he  and  his  wife  had," 
on  which  nourishing  diet  his  Majesty,  "  staying  upon 
the  hay  mow,"  feeds  thankfully  for  two  days,  and  then 
departs  under  new  guidance,  having  first  changed 
clothes,  down  to  the  very  shirt  and  old  pair  of  shoes, 
with  his  landlord,  and  so,  as  worthy  Banyan  has  it, 
''goes  on  his  way  and  sees  him  no  more."  Singular 
enough,  if  we  will  think  of  it !  This,  then,  was  a 
genuine  flesh-and-blood  rustic  of  the  year  1651 ;  he  did 
actually  swallow  bread  and  butter-milk  (not  having 
ale  and  bacon)  and  do  field  labour ;  with  these  hob- 
nailed shoes  has  sprawled  through  mud  roads  in 
winter,  and,  jocund  or  not,  driven  his  team  afield  in 
summer ;  he  made  bargains,  had  chafferings  and 
hagglings,  now  a  sore  heart,  now  a  glad  one,  was 
bom,  was  a  son,  was  a  father,  toiled  in  many  ways, 
being  forced  to  it,  till  the  strength  was  all  worn  out 
of  him,  and  then  lay  down  "  to  rest  his  galled  back," 
and  sleep  there  till  the  long-distant  morning  !  How 
comes  it,  that  he  alone  of  all  the  British  rustics  who 
tilled  and  lived  along  with  him,  on  whom  the  blessed 


INTRODUCTION  xfii 

sun  on  that  same  "  fifth  day  of  September  "  was  shining, 
should  have  chanced  to  rise  on  us,  that  this  poor  pair 
of  clouted  shoes,  out  of  the  million  million  hides  that 
have  been  tanned  and  cut  and  worn,  should  still 
subsist  and  hang  visibly  together  ?  We  see  him  but 
for  a  moment ;  for  one  moment  the  blanket  of  the 
night  is  rent  asunder,  so  that  we  behold  and  see,  and 
then  closes  over  him — for  ever.' 

Carlyle  was  at  heart  a  sentimentalist,  and  there  may 
be  some  stem  critics  who  think  this  particular  piece 
of  sentimentalism  of  his  a  little  rank  ;  but  be  that  as 
it  may,  it  is  only  firom  big  books  and  from  large 
canvases  that  pleasure  of  the  kind  I  am  referring  to 
can  be  obtained,  and  Boswell's  Johnson  is  full  of  such 
pleasure-giving,  such  fancy-stirring  passages,  reveal- 
ing to  us  the  actual  life  of  man. 

Though  it  would  be  ridiculous  to  profess  to 
enumerate  one  by  one  the  delights  of  a  biography  it 
hhas  become  impertinent  to  praise,  yet  next  to  its 
generous  scale,  one  may  harmlessly  refer  to  the  per- 
fection of  its  method.  This  was  no  happy  chance,  no 
mere  bit  of  good  fortune,  but  the  result  of  a  real  genius 
for  portraiture,  coupled  with  that  infinite  capacity  for 
taking  pains  which  is  found  allied  to  genius  so  oflen 
that  it  has  sometimes  been  mistaken  for  it.  That 
Boswell  loved  Johnson  is  plain  enough,  but  that  he 
loved  himself  still  better,  and  was  endlessly  ambitious 
of  literary  fame,  is  at  least  equally  certain.  His 
genius  prompted  him  what  he  could  do,  and  told  him 
that  in  the  famous  Doctor  he  had  a  subject  made  for 


xiv  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON 

his  hand.  Like  Fred  Bayham  he  felt  he  was  in  for  a 
good  thing-,  and  he  meant  to  make  the  very  most  of  it. 
He  saw  his  way  to  write  a  great  book,  to  do  something 
which,  despite  the  sneers  of  Gibbon  and  the  patronage 
of  Burke,  no  other  member  of  the  club  could  do  one 
half  or  one-quarter  as  well.  He  was  to  prove  himself 
a  greater  portrait  painter  than  Sir  Joshua  himself. 
The  careful  reader  of  the  dedication  and  of  the  first 
pages  of  the  biography  cannot  fail  to  see  with  what 
confidence,  as  well  as  with  what  determination, 
Boswell  approached  his  great  task. 

Boswell's  oddities  and  absurdities  need  not  interfere 
with  the  frankness  of  our  recognition  of  his  super- 
lative talent.  The  pains  he  took  to  collect  material 
exposed  him  to  ridicule.  In  that  strange  book,  which 
ought  at  least  to  be  in  the  usually  small  library  of 
every  owner  of  racehorses,  the  Memoirs  of  Thomas 
Holcrofl,  the  author  records  how, Mr.  Lowe  (who  will 
be  found  mentioned  in  the  biography)  told  him  the 
following  story :  '  Lowe  had  requested  Johnson  to 
write  him  a  letter,  which  Johnson  did,  and  Boswell 
came  in  while  it  was  writing ;  his  attention  was 
immediately  fixed.  Lowe  took  the  letter,  retired, 
and  was  followed  by  Boswell.  "  Nothing,"  said  Lowe, 
*'  could  surprise  me  more.  Till  that  moment  he  had 
so  entirely  overlooked  me  that  I  did  not  imagine  he 
knew  there  was  such  a  creature  in  existence,  and  he 
now  accosted  me  with  the  most  overstrained  and  in- 
sinuating compliments  possible.  '  How  do  you  do, 
Mr.  Lowe  ?    I  hope  you  are  well,  Mr.  Lowe .''    Pardon 


INTRODUCTION  xv 

my  freedom,  Mr.  Lowe,  but  I  think  I  saw  my  dear 
friend  Dr.  Johnson  writing  a  letter  for  you. '  '  Yes, 
sir.'  'I  hope  you  wiU  not  think  me  rude,  but  if  it 
would  not  be  too  great  a  favour,  you  would  infinitely 
oblige  me  if  you  would  just  let  me  have  a  sight  of  it ; 
everything  from  that  hand,  you  know,  is  so  inestim- 
able.'   'Sir,  it  is  on  my  own  private  affairs,  but ' 

*I  would  not  pry  into  a  person's  affairs,  my  dear 
Mr.  Lowe,  by  any  means.  I  am  sure  you  would  not 
accuse  me  of  such  a  thing,  only,  if  it  were  no  particular 

secret -'     '  Sir,  you  are  welcome  to  read  the  letter.' 

'I  thank  you,  my  dear  Mr.  Lowe,  you  are  very 
obliging.  I  take  it  exceedingly  kind.'  (Having 
read. )     '  It  is  nothing  I  believe,  Mr.  Lowe,  that  you 

would  be  ashamed  of '    '  Certainly  not.'    '  Why, 

then,  my  dear  sir,  if  you  would  do  me  another  favour 
you  would  make  the  obligation  eternal.  If  you  would 
but  step  to  Peele's  coffee-house  with  me  and  just  suffer 
me  to  take  a  copy  of  it  I  would  do  anything  in  my 
power  to  oblige  you.'  I  was  so  overcome,"  said 
Lowe,  "  by  this  sudden  familiarity  and  condescension, 
accompanied  with  bows  and  grimaces,  I  had  no  power 
to  refuse.  We  went  to  the  coffee-house.  My  letter 
was  presently  transcribed,  and  as  soon  as  he  had  put 
his  document  in  his  pocket  Mr.  Boswell  walked  away 
as  erect  and  as  proud  as  half  an  hour  before.  I  ever 
after  was  unnoticed.  Nay,  I  am  not  certain,"  added 
he  sarcastically,  "  whether  the  Scotchman  did  not 
leave  me,  poor  as  he  knew  I  was,  to  pay  for  my  own 
dish  of  coffee." ' 


xvi  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON 

How  all  this  painstaking  and  drudgery  contrasts 
•with  the  Doctor's  own  sublime  indifference  to  material 
if  he  were  not  in  the  mood  for  it.  *  Elated  with  the 
success  of  my  spontaneous  exertion  to  procure  material 
and  respectable  aid  to  Johnson  for  his  very  favourite 
workj  The  Lives  of  the  Poets,  I  hastened  down  to  Mr. 
Thrale's  at  Streatham^  where  he  now  was,  that  I  might 
ensure  his  being  at  home  next  day,  and  after  dinner, 
when  I  thought  he  would  receive  the  good  news  in 
the  best  humour,  I  announced  it  eagerly.  '*  I  have 
been  at  work  for  you  to-day,  sir.  I  have  been  with 
Lord  Marchmont.  He  bade  me  tell  you  he  has  a  great 
respect  for  you,  and  will  call  on  you  to-morrow  at  one 
o'clock,  and  communicate  all  he  knows  about  Pope." 
Here  I  paused  in  full  expectation  that  he  would  be 
pleased  with  this  intelligence,  would  praise  my  active 
merit,  and  would  be  alert  to  embrace  such  an  offer 
from  a  nobleman.  But  whether  I  had  shown  an 
over-exultation  which  provoked  his  spleen,  or  whether 
he  was  seized  with  a  suspicion  that  I  had  obtruded 
him  on  Lord  Marchmont  and  humbled  him  too  much, 
or  whether  there  was  anything  more  than  an  unlucky 
fit  of  ill-humour,  I  know  not,  but  to  my  surprise  the 
result  was. — Johnson  :  I  shall  not  be  in  town  to- 
morrow. I  don't  care  to  know  about  Pope.  Mr. 
Thbalb  (surprised  as  I  was  and  a  little  angry) :  I 
suppose,  sir,  Mr.  Boswell  thought  that  as  you  are  to 
write  Pope's  life  you  would  wish  to  know  about  him. 
Johnson  :  Wish  !  Why,  yes.  If  it  rained  knowledge 
I  'd  hold  out  my  hand,  but  I  would  not  give  myself 


INTRODUCTION  xvii 

the  trouble  to  go  in  quest  of  it.  There  was  no  arguing 
•with  him  at  the  moment. ' 

Boswell  is  good  enough  to  express  a  regret  that  Dr. 
Johnson  had  not  written  his  own  life,  but  all  subse- 
quent generations  of  English  readers  have  good  cause 
to  rejoice  that  he  did  nothing  to  put  Boswell  off  the 
track.  Johnson  soon  got  sick  of  a  subject,  and  of  no 
subject  sooner  than  himself.  He  is  indeed  a  splendid 
writer  of  biography,  but  his  methods  are  not  Boswell- 
ian,  nor  is  the  result  by  any  means  the  same.  His 
life,  written  by  himself,  would  have  been  a  gloomy, 
though  majestic,  fragment — a  few  peals  of  thunder 
and  a  heavy  torrent  of  rain,  and  then  some  wearied 
exclamations  and  a  frigid  dismissal. 

It  is  fair  to  remember  that  Boswell  enjoyed  to  the 
full  one  enormous  advantage.  He  had  an  absolutely 
free  hand.  Johnson  left  neither  wife  nor  chUd.  I 
do  not  suppose  Black  Frank,  his  servant  and  residuary 
legatee,  ever  read  a  line  of  the  great  biography. 
There  was  no  daughter  married  to  a  well-to-do  trades- 
man to  put  her  pen  through  the  pathetic  passages 
relating  to  old  Michael  Johnson,  who,  once  a  week, 
kept  an  open  bookstall  in  Birmingham.  There  was  no 
grandson  in  holy  orders  to  water  down  the  witticisms 
that  have  reverberated  through  the  world.  There 
were  no  political  followers,  no  party  associates,  fearful 
of  their  own  paltry  reputations,  to  buzz  like  flies  about 
the  ears  of  the  biographer.  None  the  less,  Boswell  is 
entitled  to  the  praise  of  a  glorious  intrepidity. 

But  what  was  Boswell's  method .''    The  question  is 


xviii  LIFE  OF  DR.  JOHNSON 
made  difficult  by  the  fact  that  Boswell's  enormous 
success  has  been  found  to  depend  almost  as  much 
upon  his  own  personality  as  upon  Johnson's.  It  is 
the  conjunction  of  the  two  that  so  tickles  the  midriff. 
This  is  well  illustrated  by  the  Lord  Marchmont 
incident  already  quoted.  Without  Boswell's  eager- 
ness, fussiness,  snobbishness,  we  should  never  have  got 
the  sublime,  '  I  don't  care  to  know  about  Pope.'  But 
though  Boswell's  personality,  delightfully  obtrusive 
as  it  is  and  provocative  of  a  thousand  humours,  is 
inextricably  mixed  up  with  his  success,  he  yet  had  a 
method  which  he  has  done  his  best  to  make  plain  to 
us,  both  in  his  Journal  of  a  Tour  to  the  Hebrides  (a 
book  every  bit  as  valuable  and  almost  as  amusing  as 
the  biography),  and  in  his  Dedication  of  the  Life  to 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  and  in  the  Advertisement  to,  and 
the  first  few  pages  of,  his  Magnum  Opus  itself. 

The  motto  on  the  title-page  reveals  the  whole 
scheme — 

'  Quo  fit  ut  omnia 
Votiva  pateat  veluti  descripta  tabella 
Vita  senis.' 

But  again  I  ask  what  is  the  method  ?  In  the  Dedi- 
cation Boswell  tells  us  that  in  his  Tour  he  had  been 
almost  'unboundedly  open  in  his  communications,' 
his  desire  being  'to  display  the  wonderful  fertility 
and  readiness  of  Johnson's  wit,'  and  he  tells  that  in- 
imitable story,  so  full  of  the  marrow  and  fatness  of 
our  life  here  below,  how  the  great  Dr.  Clarke  ceased 
his  merriment  when  he  saw  Beau  Nash  approaching. 


INTRODUCTION  xix 

'  My  boys,'  said  he,  '  let  us  be  grave ;  here  comes  a 
fool.' 

The  advertisement  or  preface  to  the  first  edition 
thus  concludes  :  '  Nor  will  I  suppress  my  satisfaction 
in  the  consciousness  that  by  recording  so  considerable 
a  portion  of  the  wisdom  and  wit  of  "  the  brightest 
ornament  of  the  eighteenth  century,"  I  have  largely 
provided  for  the  instruction  and  entertainment  of 
mankind.'  Entertainment  ! — this  is  indeed  a  blessed 
word  ! 

In  the  first  eleven  pages  of  the  Life,  Boswell  with 
much  clearness  states  his  theory  of  biography.  It  is 
first  of  all  based  upon  friendship.  '  I  had  the  honour 
and  happiness  of  enjoying  his  friendship  for  upwards 
of  twenty  years.'  Experts  in  dates  have  pointed  out 
(and  it  was  worth  doing)  that  though  Boswell  knew 
Johnson  for  the  last  twenty  years  of  his  life,  he  was 
by  no  means  an  habitual  associate  of  his,  and  that 
long  months  would  go  by  without  their  ever  meeting ; 
nor  when  they  did  meet,  were  they,  except  on  very 
rare  occasions,  long  together.  Whether  this  was  a 
drawback  may  be  doubted.  There  are  few  duller 
biographies  than  those  written  by  wives,  secretaries,  or 
other  domesticated  creatures.  The  point  of  view  of 
these  persons  soon  becomes  intolerable.  Neither  the 
purr  of  the  hearth-rug  nor  the  unemancipated  admira^- 
tion  of  the  private  secretary  should  be  allowed  to 
dominate  a  biography.  Boswell's  admiration  for 
Johnson  was  open-mouthed  enough,  but  his  attitude 
towards  him  was  that  of  an  extern.     But  the  book  is 


XX  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON 

based  on  intimacy.  The  next  point  Boswell  proceeds 
to  emphasise  is  that  Johnson's  conversation,  its  '  ex- 
traordinary vigour  and  vivacity,'  constituted  '  one  of 
the  first  features  of  his  character.'  Accordingly  he 
congratulates  himself  upon  his  facility  in  recollecting, 
and  his  assiduity  in  recording,  Johnson's  conversa- 
tion. 

Here  we  are  upon  the  keystone  of  the  bridge. 

'  In  the  chronological  series  of  Johnson's  life  which 
I  trace  as  distinctly  as  I  can  year  by  year,  I  produce 
wherever  it  is  in  my  power  his  own  minutes,  letters, 
or  conversation,  being  convinced  that  this  mode  is 
more  lively.'  And  again:  'I  am  fully  aware  of  the 
objections  which  may  be  made  to  the  minuteness  on 
some  occasions  of  my  detail  of  Johnson's  conversation, 
and  how  happily  it  is  adapted  for  the  petty  exercise 
of  ridicule  by  men  of  superficial  understanding  and 
ludicrous  fancy ;  but  I  remain  firm  and  confident  in 
my  opinion  that  minute  particulars  are  frequently 
characteristic  and  always  amusing.' 

We  see  in  these  and  other  kindred  passages  Boswell's 
scheme  and  his  method.  He  knew  Johnson,  he  loved 
him  ;  he  especially  delighted  in  the  vigour  and  vivacity 
of  his  conversation,  and  he  determined  to  portray  him 
in  such  a  manner  as  to  be  entertaining,  lively,  and 
amusing.  And  what  is  more  to  the  purpose,  he  has 
succeeded. 

Undoubtedly  the  great  feature  of  Boswell's  book  is 
its  record  of  Johnson's  talk.  There  is  nothing  else 
like  it  anywhere. 


INTRODUCTION  and 

For  a  talker  Johnson  had  all  the  necessary  qualifi- 
cations. He  possessed  vast  and  varied  information  on 
all  kinds  of  subjects — he  knew  not  only  books,  but  a 
great  deal  about  trades  and  manufactures,  ways  of 
existence,  customs  of  business.  He  had  been  in  all 
sorts  of  societies,  kept  every  kind  of  company.  He 
had  fought  the  battle  of  life  in  a  hand-to-hand  en- 
counter, had  slept  in  garrets,  done  hack-work  for 
booksellers,  been  houseless  at  night — in  short,  had 
lived  on  ^^d.  a  day.  By  the  side  of  Johnson  Burke's 
knowledge  of  men  and  things  was  bookish  and  notional. 
Johnson  had  a  great  range  of  fact.  Next  he  had  a 
strong  mind  operating  upon  and  in  love  with  life. 
Then,  of  course,  whenever  stirred  by  contact  with  his 
friends,  and  inflamed  by  the  passion  for  contradiction, 
or  justly  irritated  by  the  flimsy  platitudes  of  fools,  he 
had  ready  for  immediate  use  the  quickest  wit  and  the 
most  magnificent  vocabulary  ever  placed  at  the  dis- 
posal of  man.  Add  to  this  an  almost  divine  tender- 
ness of  heart,  a  deep-rooted  afi"ectionateness  of  dis- 
position, and  a  positively  brutal  aversion  to  every  kind 
of  exaggeration,  and  you  get  a  combination  of  qualities 
no  one  has  a  right  to  expect. 

Nor  must  this  be  forgotten — Boswell's  Johnson  is 
the  post-pension  Johnson.  Never  before  nor  since  did 
a  beggarly  £300  a  year  of  public  money  yield  (thanks 
mainly  to  Boswell)  such  a  harvest  for  the  public 
good.  Not  only  did  it  keep  the  Doctor  himself  in 
brown  suits  and  bob-wigs,  and  provide  a  home  for 
Mrs.  Williams,  and  for  Mrs.  Desmoulins,  and  for  Miss 


xxii         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON 

Carmichael,  and  for  Mr.  Levett,  but  it  has  kept  us  all 
going  ever  since.  This  blessed  pension  gave  Johnson 
ease  and  leisure — ease  of  mind^  and  leisure  to  talk. 

The  most  noticeable  characteristics  of  Johnson's  talk 
seem  to  be  good  sense,  brilliant  wit,  and  a  lively 
dialectical  imagination,  which  enabled  him  joyfully  and 
triumphantly  to  pursue  his  subject  and  crush  his 
opponent  with  a  vigour  that  gathered  force  as  it  pro- 
ceeded. No  talk  was  ever  freer  from  pedantry,  nor 
can  it  be  said  that  profundity  is  one  of  its  notes.  It 
is  indeed  full  of  good  feeling,  and  a  melancholy  as 
well  as  an  obstreperous  humour.  It  teaches  one  how 
to  live  rather  than  what  to  believe.  Boswell  was 
quite  right,  his  record  of  Johnson's  talk  is  entertain- 
ing and  lively  and  amusing.  I  will  give  one  example 
of  what  I  mean  by  dialectical  imagination. 

Talking  of  those  who  denied  the  truth  of  Chris- 
tianity, he  said  :  '  It  is  always  easy  to  be  on  the 
negative  side.  If  a  man  were  now  to  deny  that  there 
is  salt  upon  the  table,  you  could  not  reduce  him  to  an 
absurdity.  Come,  let  us  try  this  a  little  further.  I 
deny  that  Canada  is  taken,  and  I  can  support  my 
denial  by  pretty  good  arguments.  The  French  are  a 
much  more  numerous  people  than  we  are  ;  and  it  is 
not  likely  they  would  allow  us  to  take  it.  But  the 
Ministry  have  assured  us  in  all  the  formality  of  the 
Gazette  that  it  is  taken.  Very  true.  But  the  Ministry 
have  put  us  to  an  enormous  expense  by  the  war  in 
America,  and  it  is  their  interest  to  persuade  us  that 
we  have  got  something  for  our  money.     But  the  fact 


INTRODUCTION  xxiii 

is  confirmed  by  thousands  of  men  who  were  at  the 
taking  of  it.  Ay,  but  these  men  have  still  more 
interest  in  deceiving  us.  They  don't  want  that  you 
should  think  the  French  have  beat  them,  but  that 
they  have  beat  the  French.  Now,  suppose  you  should 
go  over  and  find  that  it  is  really  taken,  that  would  only 
satisfy  yourself — for  when  you  come  home  we  will 
not  believe  you.  We  will  say  you  have  been  bribed. 
Yet,  sir,  notwithstanding  all  these  plausible  objections, 
we  have  no  doubt  that  Canada  is  really  ours.  Such  is 
the  weight  of  common  testimony.  How  much  stronger 
are  the  evidences  of  the  Christian  religion.' 

This  may  not  be  very  close  reasoning  or  very  con- 
vincing argumentation,  but  its  crescendo  is  exciting 
and  effective,  and  betokens  a  gift  which  on  the  Treasury 
or  Front  Opposition  Bench  would  have  been  rewarded 
with  enthusiastic  cheers  and  laughter. 

It  is  sometimes  said  Johnson's  talk  as  recorded  by 
Boswell  has  killed  Johnson's  books.  This  is  nonsense. 
Boswell's  book  is  of  course  vastly  more  entertaining, 
lively,  and  amusing  than  Rasselas  or  the  Rambler,  and 
consequently  far  more  people  have  read  and  will  read 
Boswell  than  have  or  will  read  Johnson.  This  is 
inevitable.  The  Heart  of  Midlothian  numbers  more 
readers  than  Butler's  Analogy.  To  wish  it  otherwise 
is  to  reconstruct  human  natui'e  and  to  people  the  globe 
with  another  race  of  mortals. 

But  to  say  that  nobody  reads  Johnson  is  sheer  non- 
sense. There  is  always  somebody  reading  Johnson. 
Genius,  thank  Heaven,  is  never  crowded  out,  and 


xxiv         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON 

Johnson  (as  everybody  knows)  was  a  writer  of  genius. 
His  Lives  of  the  Poets,  his  Preface  to  Shakespeare 
and  to  the  English  Dictionary — the  Dictionary  itself — 
many  of  the  Ramblers  and  Idlers  (especially  the  '  Dick 
Minim  *  Idlers  of  June  1759),  did  they  stand  alone 
on  our  shelves,  would  be  enough,  with  the  famous 
portraits  of  Sir  Joshua  (so  instinct  are  they  with 
character,  so  charged  with  reality)  to  transmit  from 
one  generation  of  readers  to  another  the  fascinating 
personality  of  a  great  man. 

But  fortunately  we  have  much  more — how  much 
more  it  is  for  the  reader  of  the  following  pages  to 
say.  A.  £. 


TO 

SIR    JOSHUA    REYNOLDS 

My  dear  Sir, — Every  liberal  motive  that  can  actuate 
an  author  in  the  dedication  of  his  labours  concurs  in 
directing  me  to  you,  as  the  person  to  whom  the  following 
work  should  be  inscribed. 

If  there  be  a  pleasure  in  celebrating  the  distinguished 
merit  of  a  contemporary,  mixed  with  a  certain  degree 
of  vanity  not  altogether  inexcusable,  in  appearing  fully 
sensible  of  it,  where  can  I  find  one,  in  complimenting 
whom  I  can  with  more  general  approbation  gratify  those 
feelings?  Your  excellence,  not  only  in  the  Art  over 
which  you  have  long  presided  with  unrivalled  fame,  hut 
also  in  philosophy  and  elegant  literature,  is  well  known 
to  the  present,  and  will  continue  to  be  the  admiration  of 
future  ages.  Your  equal  and  placid  temper,  your  variety 
of  conversation,  your  true  politeness,  by  which  you  are 
so  amiable  in  private  society,  and  that  enlarged  hospitality 
which  has  long  made  your  house  a  common  centre  of 
union  for  the  great,  the  accomplished,  the  learned,  and 
the  ingenious ;  all  these  qualities  I  can,  in  perfect  con- 
fidence of  not  being  accused  of  flattery,  ascribe  to  you. 

If  a  man  may  indulge  an  honest  pride,  in  having  it 
known  to  the  world  that  he  has  been  thought  worthy  of 
particular  attention  by  a  person  of  the  first  eminence  in 
the  age  in  which  he  lived,  whose  company  has  been  univer- 

VOL.  I.  c 


xxvi         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON 

sally  courted,  I  am  justified  in  availing  myself  of  the 
usual  privilege  of  a  Dedication,  when  I  mention  that  there 
has  been  a  long  and  uninterrupted  friendship  between  us. 

If  gratitude  should  be  acknowledged  for  favours 
received,  I  have  this  opportunity,  my  dear  sir,  most  sin- 
cerely to  thank  you  for  the  many  happy  hours  which  I  owe 
to  your  kindness,— for  the  cordiality  with  which  you  have 
at  all  times  been  pleased  to  welcome  me,— for  the  number 
of  valuable  acquaintances  to  whom  you  have  introduced 
me,— for  the  noctes  coenaeque  Deum  which  I  have 
enjoyed  under  your  roof. 

If  a  work  should  be  inscribed  to  one  who  is  master  of 
the  subject  of  it,  and  whose  approbation,  therefore,  must 
ensure  it  credit  and  success,  the  Life  of  Dr.  Johnson  is, 
with  the  greatest  propriety,  dedicated  to  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds,  who  was  the  intimate  and  beloved  friend  of  that 
great  man ;  the  friend  whom  he  declared  to  be  '  the  most 
invulnerable  man  he  knew  ;  whom,  if  he  should  quarrel 
with  him,  he  should  jind  the  most  difficulty  how  to  abuse.' 
You,  my  dear  sir,  studied  him,  and  knew  him  well :  you 
venerated  and  admired  him.  Yet,  luminous  as  he  was 
upon  the  whole,  you  perceived  all  the  shades  which 
mingled  in  the  grand  composition;  all  the  little  peculi- 
arities and  slight  blemishes  which  marked  the  literary 
Colossus.  Your  very  warm  commendation  of  the  speci- 
men which  I  gave  in  my  Journal  of  a  Tour  to  the 
Hebrides,  of  my  being  able  to  preserve  his  conversation 
in  an  authentic  and  lively  manner,  which  opinion  the 
Public  has  confirmed,  was  the  best  encouragement  for 
me  to  persevere  in  my  purpose  of  producing  the  whole 
of  my  stores. 

In  one  respect,  this  work  will,  in  some  passages,  be 
different  from  the  former.     In  my  Tour  I  was  almost 


DEDICATION  xxvii 

unboundedly  open  in  my  communications,  and  from  my 
eagerness  to  display  the  wonderful  fertility  and  readiness 
of  Johnsons  wit,  freely  showed  to  the  world  its  dexterity, 
even  when  I  was  myself  the  object  of  it.  I  trusted  that  I 
should  be  liberally  understood,  as  knowing  very  well  what 
I  was  about,  and  by  no  means  as  simply  unconscious  of 
the  pointed  effects  of  the  satire,  I  own,  indeed,  that  I 
was  arrogant  enough  to  suppose  that  the  tenor  of  the 
rest  of  the  book  would  sufficiently  guard  me  against  such 
a  strange  imputation.  But  it  seems  I  judged  too  well  of 
the  world  ;  for,  though  I  could  scarcely  believe  it,  I  have 
been  undoubtedly  informed,  that  many  persons,  especially 
in  distant  quarter's,  not  penetrating  enough  into  Johnson's 
character,  so  as  to  understand  his  mode  of  treating  his 
friends,  have  arraigned  my  judgment,  instead  of  seeing 
that  I  was  sensible  of  all  that  they  could  observe. 

It  is  related  of  the  great  Dr.  Clarke,  that  when  in  one 
of  his  leisure  hours  he  was  unbending  himself  with  a  few 
friends  in  the  most  playful  and  frolicsome  manner,  he 
observed  Beau  Nash  approaching,  upon  which  he  suddenly 
stopped :  '  My  boys  (said  he),  let  us  be  grave:  here  comes 
a  fool.'  The  world,  my  friend,  I  have  found  to  be  a 
great  fool,  as  to  that  particular  on  which  it  has  become 
necessary  to  speak  very  plainly.  I  have,  therefore,  in 
this  work  been  more  reserved ;  and  though  I  tell  nothing 
but  the  truth,  I  have  still  kept  in  my  mind  that  the  whole 
truth  is  not  always  to  be  exposed.  This,  however,  I  have 
managed  so  as  to  occasion  no  diminution  of  the  pleasure 
which  my  book  should  afford ;  though  malignity  may 
sometimes  be  disappointed  of  its  gratification. — I  am, 
my  dear  sir,  your  much  obliged  friend,  and  faithful 
humble  servant, 

JAMES  BOSWELL. 

London,  April  20,  1791. 


ADVERTISEMENT  TO  THE 
FIRST  EDITION 

I  AT  last  deliver  to  the  world  a  Work  which  I  have 
long  promised,  aud  of  which,  I  am  afraid,  too  high 
expectations  have  been  raised.  The  delay  of  its  publi- 
cation must  be  imputed,  in  a  considerable  degree,  to 
the  extraordinary  zeal  which  has  been  shown  by  dis- 
tinguished persons  in  all  quarters  to  supply  me  with 
additional  information  concerning  its  illustrious  sub- 
ject ;  resembling  in  this  the  grateful  tribes  of  ancient 
nations,  of  which  every  individual  was  eager  to  throw 
a  stone  upon  the  grave  of  a  departed  hero,  and  thus  to 
share  in  the  pious  office  of  erecting  an  honourable 
monument  to  his  memory. 

The  labour  and  anxious  attention  with  which  I  have 
collected  and  arranged  the  materials  of  which  these 
volumes  are  composed  will  hardly  be  conceived  by 
those  who  read  them  with  careless  facility.  The 
stretch  of  mind  and  prompt  assiduity  by  which  so 
many  conversations  were  preserved,  I  myself,  at  some 
distance  of  time,  contemplate  with  wonder ;  and  I 
must  be  allowed  to  suggest,  that  the  nature  of  the 
work  in  other  respects,  as  it  consists  of  innumerable 
detached  particulars,  all  which,  even  the  most  minute, 

xzviii 


ADVERTISEMENT  TO   FIRST  EDITION    xxix 

I  have  spared  no  pains  to  ascertain  with  a  scrupulous 
authenticity,  has  occasioned  a  degree  of  trouble  far 
beyond  that  of  any  other  species  of  composition. 
Were  I  to  detail  the  books  which  I  have  consulted, 
and  the  inquiries  which  I  have  found  it  necessary 
to  make  by  various  channels,  I  should  probably  be 
thought  ridiculously  ostentatious.  Let  me  only  ob- 
serve, as  a  specimen  of  my  trouble,  that  I  have  some- 
times been  obliged  to  run  half  over  London  in  order 
to  fix  a  date  correctly,  which,  when  I  had  accom- 
plished, I  well  knew  would  obtain  me  no  praise, 
though  a  failure  would  have  been  to  my  discredit. 
And  after  all,  perhaps,  hard  as  it  may  be,  I  shall  not 
be  surprised  if  omissions  or  mistakes  be  pointed  out 
with  invidious  severity.  I  have  also  been  extremely 
careful  as  to  the  exactness  of  my  quotations  ;  holding 
that  there  is  a  respect  due  to  the  public,  which  should 
oblige  every  author  to  attend  to  this,  and  never  to 
presume  to  introduce  them  with,  '  I  think  I  have 
read,'  or  '  If  I  remember  right,'  when  the  originals 
may  be  examined. 

I  beg  leave  to  express  my  warmest  thanks  to  those 
who  have  been  pleased  to  favour  me  with  communica- 
tions and  advice  in  the  conduct  of  my  work.  But  I 
cannot  sufficiently  acknowledge  my  obligations  to  my 
friend  Mr.  Malone,  who  was  so  good  as  to  allow  me 
to  read  to  him  almost  the  whole  of  my  manuscript, 
and  make  such  remarks  as  were  greatly  for  the  advan- 
tage of  the  work  ;  though  it  is  but  fair  to  him  to 
mention,  that  upon  many  occasions  I  difi'ered  from 
him,  and  followed  my  own  judgment.  I  regret  ex- 
ceedingly that  I  was  deprived  of  the  benefit  of  his 
revision,  when  not  more  than  one  half  of  the  book  had 


XXX  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON 

passed  through  the  press  ;  but  after  having  completed 
his  very  laborious  and  admirable  edition  oi  Shakespeare, 
for  which  he  generously  would  accept  of  no  other 
reward  but  that  fame  which  he  has  so  deservedly 
obtained,  he  fulfilled  his  promise  of  a  long-wished-for 
visit  to  his  relations  in  Ireland  ;  from  whence  his  safe 
return  finibus  Atticis  is  desired  by  his  friends  here, 
with  all  the  classical  ardour  of  Sic  te  Diva  potens  Cypri ; 
for  there  is  no  man  in  whom  more  elegant  and  worthy 
qualities  are  united,  and  whose  society,  therefore,  is 
more  valued  by  those  who  know  him. 

It  is  painful  to  me  to  think,  that  while  I  was  carry- 
ing on  this  work,  several  of  those  to  whom  it  would 
have  been  most  interesting  have  died.  Such  melan- 
choly disappointments  we  know  to  be  incident  to 
humanity  ;  but  we  do  not  feel  them  the  less.  Let  me 
particularly  lament  the  Reverend  Thomas  Warton 
and  the  Reverend  Dr.  Adams.  Mr.  Warton,  amidst 
his  variety  of  genius  and  learning,  was  an  excellent 
biographer.  His  contributions  to  my  collection  are 
highly  estimable  ;  and  as  he  had  a  true  relish  of  my 
Tour  to  the  Hebrides,  I  trust  I  should  now  have  been 
gratified  with  a  larger  share  of  hij  kind  approbation. 
Dr.  Adams,  eminent  as  the  head  of  a  college,  as  a 
writer,  and  as  a  most  amiable  man,  had  known  John- 
son from  his  early  years,  and  was  his  friend  through 
life.  What  reason  I  had  to  hope  for  the  countenance 
of  that  venerable  gentleman  to  this  Work  will  appear 
from  what  he  wrote  to  me  upon  a  former  occasion 
from  Oxford,  November  17,  1785  : — 

'Dear  Sib, — I  hazard  this  letter,  not  knowing  where  it  will 
find  you,  to  thank  you  for  your  very  agreeable  Tour,  which 
I  found  hare  on  my  return  from  the  country,  and  in  which  yon 


ADVERTISEMENT   TO   FIRST  EDITION   xxxi 

have  depicted  our  friend  so  perfectly  to  my  fancy,  in  every 
attitude,  every  scene  and  situation,  that  I  have  thought  myself 
in  the  company,  and  of  the  party  almost  throughout.  It  has 
given  very  general  satisfaction  ;  and  those  who  have  found 
most  fault  with  a  passage  here  and  there  have  agreed  that 
they  could  not  help  going  through,  and  being  entertained  with 
the  whole.  I  wish,  indeed,  some  few  gross  expressions  had 
been  softened,  and  a  few  of  our  hero's  foibles  had  been  a  little 
more  shaded  ;  but  it  is  useful  to  see  the  weaknesses  incident  to 
great  minds  ;  and  you  have  given  us  Dr.  Johnson's  authority 
that  in  history  all  ought  to  be  told.' 

Such  a  sanction  to  my  faculty  of  giving  a  just  repre- 
sentation of  Dr.  Johnson  I  could  not  conceal.  Nor 
will  I  suppress  my  satisfaction  in  the  consciousness, 
that  by  recording  so  considerable  a  portion  of  the 
wisdom  and  wit  of  '  the  brightest  ornament  of  the 
eighteenth  century,'  ^  I  have  largely  provided  for 
the  instruction  and  entertainment  of  mankind. 

London,  April  20,  1791. 


ADVERTISEMENT   TO    THE 
SECOND   EDITION 

That  I  was  anxious  for  the  success  of  a  work  which 
had  employed  much  of  my  time  and  labour,  I  do  not 
wish  to  conceal :  but  whatever  doubts  I  at  any  time 
entertained  have  been  entirely  removed  by  the  very 
favourable  reception  with  which  it  has  been  honoured. 
That  reception  has  excited  my  best  exertions  to  render 
my  book  more  perfect ;  and  in  this  endeavour  I  have 
had  the  assistance  not  only  of  some  of  my  particular 


1  See  Mr.  Malone's  Preface  to  his  edition  of  Shakespeare. 


sxxii        LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON 

friends,  but  of  many  other  learned  and  ingenious  men, 
by  which  I  have  been  enabled  to  rectify  some  mistakes, 
and  to  enrich  the  Work  with  many  valuable  additions. 
These  I  have  ordered  to  be  printed  separately  in 
quarto,  for  the  accommodation  of  the  purchasers  of 
the  first  edition.  May  I  be  permitted  to  say  that  the 
typography  of  both  editions  does  honour  to  the  press 
of  Mr.  Henry  Baldwin,  now  Master  of  the  Worshipful 
Company  of  Stationers,  whom  I  have  long  known  a 
worthy  man  and  an  obliging  friend. 

In  the  strangely  mixed  scenes  of  human  existence 
our  feelings  are  often  at  once  pleasing  and  painful. 
Of  this  truth  the  progress  of  the  present  Work 
furnishes  a  striking  instance.  It  was  highly  gratifying 
to  me  that  my  friend.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  to  whom 
it  is  inscribed,  lived  to  peruse  it,  and  to  give  the 
strongest  testimony  to  its  fidelity  ;  but  before  a  second 
edition,  which  he  contributed  to  improve,  could  be 
finished,  the  world  has  been  deprived  of  that  most 
valuable  man  ;  a  loss  of  which  the  regret  will  be  deep, 
and  lasting,  and  extensive,  proportionate  to  the  felicity 
which  he  diffused  through  a  wide  circle  of  admirers 
and  friends. 

In  reflecting  that  the  illustrious  subject  of  this  Work, 
by  being  more  extensively  and  intimately  known, 
however  elevated  before,  has  risen  in  the  veneration 
and  love  of  mankind,  I  feel  a  satisfaction  beyond 
what  fame  can  afford.  We  cannot,  indeed,  too  much 
or  too  often  admire  his  wonderful  powers  of  mind, 
when  we  consider  that  the  principal  store  of  wit  and 
wisdom  which  this  Work  contains  was  not  a  particular 
selection  from  his  general  conversation,  but  was  merely 
his  occasional  talk  at  such  times  as  I  had  the  good 


ADVERTISEMENT  TO  SECOND  EDITION  xxxiii 

fortune  to  be  in  Ms  company  ;  andj  without  doubt,  if 
his  discourse  at  other  periods  had  been  collected  with 
the  same  attention,  the  whole  tenor  of  what  he 
uttered  would  have  been  found  equally  excellent. 

His  strong,  clear,  and  animated  enforcement  of 
religion,  morality,  loyalty,  and  subordination,  while  it 
delights  and  improves  the  wise  and  the  good,  will,  I 
trust,  prove  an  effectual  antidote  to  that  detestable 
sophistry  which  has  been  lately  imported  from  France, 
under  the  false  name  of  Philosophy,  and  with  a  malig- 
nant industry  has  been  employed  against  the  peace, 
good  order,  and  happiness  of  society,  in  our  free  and 
prosperous  country ;  but,  thanks  be  to  God,  without 
producing  the  pernicious  effects  which  were  hoped 
for  by  its  propagators. 

It  seems  to  me,  in  my  moments  of  self-complacency, 
that  this  extensive  biographical  Work,  however  inferior 
in  its  nature,  may  in  one  respect  be  assimilated  to  the 
Odyssey.  Amidst  a  thousand  entertaining  and  instruc- 
tive episodes  the  hero  is  never  long  out  of  sight ;  for 
they  all  are  in  some  degree  connected  with  him  ;  and 
he,  in  the  whole  course  of  the  history,  is  exhibited  by 
the  author  for  the  best  advantage  of  his  readers  : 

— Quid  virtus  et  quid  sapientia  possit, 
Utile  proposuit  nobis  exemplar  Ulyssen. 

Should  there  be  any  cold-blooded  and  morose 
mortals  who  really  dislike  this  book,  I  will  give  them 
a  story  to  apply.  When  the  great  Duke  of  Marl- 
borough, accompanied  by  Lord  Cadogan,  was  one  day 
reconnoitring  the  army  in  Flanders,  a  heavy  rain 
came  on,  and  they  both  called  for  their  cloaks.  Lord 
Cadogan's  servant,  a  good-humoured,  alert  lad,  brought 


xxxiv        LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON 

his  Lordship's  in  a  minute.  The  Duke's  servant,  a 
lazy,  sulky  dog,  was  so  sluggish  that  his  Grace,  being 
wet  to  the  skin,  reproved  him,  and  had  for  answer, 
with  a  grunt,  '  I  came  as  fast  as  I  could,'  upon  which 
the  Duke  calmly  said,  'Cadogan,  I  would  not  for  a 
thousand  pounds  have  that  fellow's  temper.' 

There  are  some  men,  I  believe,  who  have,  or  think 
they  have,  a  very  small  share  of  vanity.  Such  may 
speak  of  their  literary  fame  in  a  decorous  style  of 
diffidence.  But  I  confess  that  I  am  so  formed  by 
nature  and  by  habit,  that  to  restrain  the  effusion  of 
delight  on  having  obtained  such  fame,  to  me  would 
be  truly  painful.  Why  then  should  I  suppress  it? 
Why  '  out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart '  should  I 
not  speak  ?  Let  me  then  mention  with  a  warm,  but  no 
insolent  exultation,  that  I  have  been  regaled  with 
spontaneous  praise  of  my  Work  by  many  and  various 
persons  eminent  for  their  rank,  learning,  talents,  and 
accomplishments  ;  much  of  which  praise  I  have  under 
their  hands  to  be  reposited  in  my  archives  at  Auchin- 
leck.  An  honourable  and  reverend  friend,  speaking 
of  the  favourable  reception  of  my  volumes,  even  in  the 
circles  of  fashion  and  elegance,  said  to  me,  'You  have 
made  them  all  talk  Johnson.'  Yes,  I  may  add,  I  have 
Johnsonised  the  land  ;  and  I  trust  they  will  not  only 
talk,  but  think,  Johnson. 

To  enumerate  those  to  whom  I  have  been  thus 
indebted  would  be  tediously  ostentatious.  I  cannot, 
however,  but  name  one,  whose  praise  is  truly  valuable, 
not  only  on  account  of  his  knowledge  and  abilities, 
but  on  account  of  the  magnificent,  yet  dangerous 
embassy  in  which  he  is  now  employed,  which  makes 
everything  that  relates  to  him  peculiarly  interesting. 


ADVERTISEMENT  TO  SECOND  EDITION    xxxv 

Lord  Macartney  favoured  me  with  his  own  copy  of  my 
book,  with  a  number  of  notes,  of  which  I  have  availed 
myself.  On  the  first  leaf  I  found,  in  his  Lordship's 
handwriting,  an  inscription  of  such  high  commenda- 
tion, that  even  I,  vain  as  I  am,  cannot  prevail  on  my- 
self to  publish  it. 

iJvly  1,  1793.] 


ADVERTISEMENT  TO  THE 
THIRD  EDITION 

Several  valuable  letters,  and  other  curious  matter, 
having  been  communicated  to  the  author  too  late  to 
be  arranged  in  that  chronological  order  which  he  had 
endeavoured  uniformly  to  observe  in  his  work,  he  was 
obliged  to  introduce  them  in  his  second  edition  by 
way  of  Addenda,  as  commodiously  as  he  could.  In 
the  present  edition  they  have  been  distributed  in  their 
proper  places.  In  revising  his  volumes  for  a  new 
edition,  he  had  pointed  out  where  some  of  these 
materials  should  be  inserted ;  but  unfortunately,  in 
the  midst  of  his  labours,  he  was  seized  with  a  fever,  of 
which,  to  the  great  regret  of  all  his  friends,  he  died  on 
the  19th  of  May  1795.  All  the  notes  that  he  had 
written  in  the  margin  of  the  copy  which  he  had  in  part 
revised  are  here  faithfully  preserved ;  and  a  few  new 
notes  have  been  added,  principally  by  some  of  those 
friends  to  whom  the  author  in  the  former  editions 
acknowledged  his  obligations.  Those  subscribed  with 
the  letter  B.  were  communicated  by  Dr.  Burney  ;  those 


xxxvi        LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON 

to  which  the  letters  J.  B.  are  annexed  by  the 
Rev.  J.  B.  Blakeway  of  Shrewsbury,  to  whom  Mr. 
Boswell  acknowledged  himself  indebted  for  some  judi- 
cious remarks  on  the  first  edition  of  his  Work ;  and 
the  letters  J.  B. — O.  are  annexed  to  some  remarks 
furnished  by  the  author's  second  son,  a  student  of 
Brasenose  College  in  Oxford.  Some  valuable  obser- 
vations were  communicated  by  James  Bindley^  Esq., 
First  Commissioner  in  the  Stamp-Office,  which  have 
been  acknowledged  in  their  proper  places.  For  all 
those  without  any  signature  Mr.  Malone  is  answerable. 
Every  new  remark,  not  written  by  the  author,  for  the 
sake  of  distinction  has  been  enclosed  within  crotchets ; 
in  one  instance,  however,  the  printer,  by  mistake,  has 
affixed  this  mark  to  a  note  relative  to  the  Rev.  Thomas 
Fysche  Palmer  (see  vol.  iv.)  which  was  written  by  Mr, 
Boswell,  and  therefore  ought  not  to  have  been  thus 
distinguished. 

I  have  only  to  add,  that  the  proof-sheets  of  the 
present  edition  not  having  passed  through  my  hands, 
I  am  not  answerable  for  any  typographical  errors  that 
may  be  found  in  it.  Having,  however,  been  printed  at 
the  very  accurate  press  of  Mr.  Baldwin,  I  make  no 
doubt  it  will  be  found  not  less  perfect  than  the  former 
edition ;  the  greatest  care  having  been  taken,  by 
correctness  and  elegance,  to  do  justice  to  one  of  the 
most  instructive  and  entertaining  works  in  the  English 
language.  Edm.  Mai^ne. 

April  8, 1799. 


ADVERTISEMENT  TO  FOURTH  EDITION  xxxvu 

ADVERTISEMENT  TO   THE 

FOURTH   EDITION 

In  this  edition  are  inserted  some  new  letters,  of  which 
the  greater  part  has  been  obligingly  communicated 
by  the  Reverend  Doctor  Vyse,  Rector  of  Lambeth. 
Those  written  by  Dr.  Johnson  concerning  his  mother 
in  her  last  illness,  furnish  a  new  proof  of  his  great 
piety  and  tenderness  of  heart,  and  therefore  cannot 
but  be  acceptable  to  the  readers  of  this  very  popular 
work.  Some  new  Notes  also  have  been  added,  which, 
as  well  as  the  observations  inserted  in  the  third  edition, 
and  the  letters  now  introduced,  are  carefully  included 
within  crotchets,  that  the  author  may  not  be  answer- 
able for  anything  which  had  not  the  sanction  of  his 
approbation.  The  remarks  of  his  friends  are  distin- 
guished as  formerly,  except  those  of  Mr.  Malone,  to 
which  the  letter  M.  is  now  subjoined.  Those  to  which 
the  letter  K.  is  affixed  were  communicated  by  my 
learned  friend  the  Reverend  Doctor  Kearney,  for- 
merly Senior  Fellow  of  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  and 
now  beneficed  in  the  diocese  of  Raphoe  in  Ireland,  of 
which  he  is  Archdeacon. 

Of  a  work  which  has  been  before  the  Public  for 
thirteen  years  with  increasing  approbation,  and  of 
which  near  four  thousand  copies  have  been  dispersed, 
it  is  not  necessary  to  say  more  ;  yet  I  cannot  refrain 
from  adding,  that,  highly  as  it  is  now  estimated,  it  will, 
I  am  confident,  be  still  more  valued  by  posterity  a 
century  hence,  when  all  the  actors  in  the  scene  shall 
be  numbered  with  the  dead  ;  when  the  excellent  and 


xxxviii      LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON 

extraordinary  man,  whose  wit  and  wisdom  are  here 
recorded,  shall  he  viewed  at  a  still  greater  distance ; 
and  the  instruction  and  entertainment  they  afford  will 
at  once  produce  reverential  gratitude,  admiration^  and 
delight.  E.  M. 

June  20,  1804. 


ADVERTISEMENT  TO  THE 
FIFTH   EDITION 

In  this  fifth  edition  some  errors  of  the  press  which 
had  crept  into  the  text  and  notes,  in  consequence  of 
repeated  impressions,  have  been  corrected.  Two 
letters  written  by  Dr.  Johnson,  and  several  new  notes, 
have  been  added  ;  by  which,  it  is  hoped,  this  valuable 
work  is  still  further  improved.  E.  M. 

January  1,  1807. 


After  my  death  I  wish  no  other  herald. 
No  other  speaker  of  my  living  actions. 
To  keep  mine  honour  from,  corruption. 
But  such  an  honest  chronicler  as  Griffith.' i 
Shakespeare,  Henry  VIII. 

1  See  Dr.  Johnson's  letter  to  Mrs.  Thrale,  dated  Ostick 
in  Skie,  September  30,  1773 :—'  Boswell  writes  a  regular 
journal  of  our  travels,  which  I  think  contains  as  much  of 
what  I  say  and  do,  as  of  all  other  occurrences  together, 
"/or  suck  a  faithful  chronicler  is  Griffith."  ' 


THE   LIFE    OF 
SAMUEL   JOHNSON,   LL.D. 

To  write  the  Life  of  him  who  excelled  all  mankind  in 
writing  the  lives  of  others^  and  who,  whether  we  con- 
sider his  extraordinary  endowments,  or  his  various 
works,  has  heen  equalled  by  few  in  any  age,  is  an 
arduous,  and  may  be  reckoned  in  me  a  presumptuous 
task. 

Had  Dr.  Johnson  written  his  own  life,  in  confor- 
mity with  the  opinion  which  he  has  given,^  that  every 
man's  life  may  be  best  written  by  himself;  had  he 
employed,  in  the  preservation  of  his  own  history,  that 
clearness  of  narration  and  elegance  of  language  in 
which  he  has  embalmed  so  many  eminent  persons, 
the  world  would  probably  have  had  the  most  perfect 
example  of  biography  that  was  ever  exhibited.  But 
although  he  at  different  times,  in  a  desultory  manner, 
committed  to  writing  many  particulars  of  the  progress 
of  his  mind  and  fortunes,  he  never  had  persevering 
diligence  enough  to  form  them  into  a  regular  com- 
position. Of  these  memorials  a  few  have  been  pre- 
served ;  but  the  greater  part  was  consigned  by  him  to 
the  flames,  a  few  days  before  his  death. 

As  I  had  the  honour  and  happiness  of  enjoying  his 
friendship  for  upwards  of  twenty  years ;  as  I  had  the 

1  Idltr,  No.  84. 
VOL.  I.  A 


2  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON 

scheme  of  writing  his  life  constantly  in  view ;  as  he 
was  well  apprised  of  this  circumstance^  and  from  time 
to  time  obligingly  satisfied  my  inquiries^  by  commu- 
nicating to  me  the  incidents  of  his  early  years ;  as  I 
acquired  a  facility  in  recollecting,  and  was  very  assi- 
duous in  recording,  his  conversation,  of  which  the 
extraordinary  vigour  and  vivacity  constituted  one  of 
the  first  features  of  his  character;  and  as  I  have 
spared  no  pains  in  obtaining  materials  concerning 
him,  from  every  quarter  where  I  could  discover  that 
they  were  to  be  found,  and  have  been  favoured  with 
the  most  liberal  communications  by  his  friends ;  I 
flatter  myself  that  few  biographers  have  entered  upon 
such  a  work  as  this  with  more  advantages,  indepen- 
dent of  literary  abilities,  in  which  I  am  not  vain 
enough  to  compare  myself  with  some  great  names 
who  have  gone  before  me  in  this  kind  of  writing. 

Since  my  work  was  announced  several  Lives  and 
Memoirs  of  Dr.  Johnson  have  been  published,  the 
most  voluminous  of  which  is  one  compiled  for  the 
booksellers  of  London,  by  Sir  John  Hawkins,  Knight,^ 
a  man  whom,  during  my  long  intimacy  with  Dr. 
Johnson,  I  never  saw  in  his  company,  I  think,  but 
once,  and  I  am  sure  not  above  twice.     Johnson  might 


1  The  greatest  part  of  this  book  was  written  while  Sir  John  Hawkins 
was  alive ;  and  I  avow  that  one  object  of  my  strictures  was  to  make  him 
feel  some  compunction  for  his  illiberal  treatment  of  Dr.  Johnson.  Since 
his  decease  I  have  suppressed  several  of  my  remarks  upon  his  work. 
But  though  I  would  not '  war  with  the  dead '  offensively,  I  think  it  neces- 
sary to  be  strenuous  in  de/ence  of  my  illustrious  friend,  which  I  cannot 
be  without  strong  animadversions  upon  a  writer  who  has  greatly 
injiu-ed  him.  Let  me  add  that  though  I  doubt  I  should  not  havebeen 
very  prompt  to  gratify  Sir  John  Hawkins  with  any  compliment  in  his 
lifetime,  I  do  now  frankly  acknowledge  that,  in  my  opinion,  his  volume, 
however  inadequate  and  improper  as  a  life  of  Dr.  Johnson,  and  how- 
ever discredited  by  unpardonable  inaccuracies  in  other  respects,  contains 
a  collection  of  curious  anecdotes  and  observations  which  few  men  but 
its  authcr  could  have  brought  together. 


LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  3 

have  esteemed  him  for  his  decent,  religious  demeanour, 
and  his  knowledge  of  books  and  literary  history ;  but 
from  the  rigid  formality  of  his  manners,  it  is  evident 
that  they  never  could  have  lived  together  with  com- 
panionable ease  and  familiarity ;  nor  had  Sir  John 
Hawkins  that  nice  perception  which  was  necessary  to 
mark  the  finer  and  less  obvious  parts  of  Johnson's 
character.  His  being  appointed  one  of  his  executors, 
gave  him  an  opportunity  of  taking  possession  of  such 
fragments  of  a  diary  and  other  papers  as  were  left ; 
of  which,  before  delivering  them  up  to  the  residuary 
legatee,  whose  property  they  were,  he  endeavoured  to 
extract  the  substance.  In  this  he  has  not  been  very 
successful,  as  I  have  found  upon  a  perusal  of  those 
papers,  which  have  been  since  transferred  to  me.  Sir 
John  Hawkins's  ponderous  labours,  I  must  acknow- 
ledge, exhibit  a  farrago,  of  which  a  considerable 
portion  is  not  devoid  of  entertainment  to  the  lovers 
of  literary  gossiping ;  but  besides  its  being  swelled  out 
with  long  unnecessary  extracts  from  various  works 
(even  one  of  several  leaves  from  Osborne's  Harleian 
Catalogue,  and  those  not  compiled  by  Johnson,  but  by 
Oldys),  a  very  small  part  of  it  relates  to  the  person 
who  is  the  subject  of  the  book ;  and,  in  that,  there  is 
such  an  inaccuracy  in  the  statement  of  facts,  as  in  so 
solemn  an  author  is  hardly  excusable,  and  certainly 
makes  his  narrative  very  unsatisfactory.  But  what  is 
still  worse,  there  is  throughout  the  whole  of  it  a  dark 
uncharitable  cast,  by  which  the  most  unfavourable 
construction  is  put  upon  almost  every  circumstance 
in  the  character  and  conduct  of  my  illustrious  friend ; 
who,  I  trust,  will,  by  a  true  and  fair  delineation,  be 
vindicated  both  from  the  injurious  misrepresentations 


4  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON 

of  this  author,  and  from  the  slighter  aspersions  of  a 
lady  who  once  lived  in  great  intimacy  with  him. 

There  is,  in  the  British  Museum,  a  letter  from 
Bishop  Warburton  to  Dr.  Birch,  on  the  subject  of 
biography,  which,  though  I  am  aware  it  may  expose 
me  to  a  charge  of  artfully  raising  the  value  of  my  own 
work,  by  contrasting  it  with  that  of  which  I  have 
spoken,  is  so  well  conceived  and  expressed,  that  I 
cannot  refrain  from  here  inserting  it : 

'  I  shall  endeavour  (says  Dr.  "Warburton)  to  give  you  what 
satisfaction  I  can  in  anything  you  want  to  be  satisfied  in  any 
subject  of  Blilton,  and  am  extremely  glad  you  intend  to  write 
his  life.  Almost  all  the  life-writers  we  have  had  before  Toland 
and  Desmaizeaux  are  indeed  strange  insipid  creatures  ;  and  yet 
I  had  rather  read  the  worst  of  them,  than  be  obliged  to  go 
through  with  this  of  Milton's,  or  the  other's  life  of  Boileau, 
where  there  is  such  a  dull,  heavy  succession  of  long  quotations 
of  disinteresting  passages,  that  it  makes  their  method  quite 
nauseous.  But  the  verbose,  tasteless  Frenchman  seems  to  lay 
it  down  as  a  principle,  that  every  life  must  be  a  book,  and 
what 's  worse,  it  proves  a  book  without  a  life ;  for  what  do  we 
know  of  Boileau,  after  all  his  tedious  stuff  ?  You  are  the  only 
one  (and  I  speak  it  without  a  compliment),  that  by  the  vigour 
of  your  style  and  sentiments,  and  the  real  importance  of  your 
materials,  have  the  art  (which  one  would  imagine  no  one 
could  have  missed)  of  adding  agreements  to  the  most  agree- 
able subject  in  the  world,  which  is  literary  history.^ 

♦  Nov.  24,  1737.' 

Instead  of  melting  down  my  materials  into  one 
mass,  and  constantly  speaking  in  my  own  person,  by 
which  I  might  have  appeared  to  have  more  merit  in 
the  execution  of  the  work,  I  have  resolved  to  adopt 
and  enlarge  upon  the  excellent  plan  of  Mr.  Mason, 
in  his  Memoirs  of  Gray.  Wherever  narrative  is  neces- 
sary to  explain,  connect,  and  supply,  I  furnish  it  to 

1  Brit.  Mus.  4320,  AyscougKs  Catal,  Sleane  MSS. 


LIFE    OF    DK.    JOHNSON  6 

the  best  of  my  abilities ;  but  in  the  chronological 
series  of  Johnson's  life^  which  I  trace  as  distinctly  as 
I  can,  year  by  year,  I  produce,  wherever  it  is  in  my 
power,  his  own  minutes,  letters,  or  conversation, 
being  convinced  that  this  mode  is  more  lively,  and 
will  make  my  readers  better  acquainted  with  him, 
than  even  most  of  those  were  who  actually  knew  him, 
but  could  know  him  only  partially  ;  whereas  there 
is  here  an  accumulation  of  intelligence  from  various 
points,  by  which  his  character  is  more  fully  understood 
and  illustrated. 

Indeed  I  cannot  conceive  a  more  perfect  mode  of 
writing  any  man's  life,  than  not  only  relating  all  the 
most  important  events  of  it  in  their  order,  but  inter- 
weaving what  he  privately  wrote,  and  said,  and 
thought ;  by  which  mankind  are  enabled  as  it  were 
to  see  him  live,  and  to  '  live  o'er  each  scene '  with 
him,  as  he  actually  advanced  through  the  several 
stages  of  his  life.  Had  his  other  friends  been  as  dili- 
gent and  ardent  as  I  was,  he  might  have  been  almost 
entirely  preserved.  As  it  is,  I  will  venture  to  say, 
that  he  will  be  seen  in  this  work  more  completely  than 
any  man  who  has  ever  yet  lived.  ^ 

And  he  will  be  seen  as  he  really  was ;  for  I  profess 
to  write,  not  his  panegyric,  which  must  be  all  praise, 
but  his  Life,  which,  great  and  good  as  he  was,  must 
not  be  supposed  to  be  entirely  perfect.  To  be  as  he 
was,  is  indeed  subject  of  panegyric  enough  to  any 
man  in  this  state  of  being  ;  but  in  every  picture  there 
should  be  shade  as  well  as  light,  and  when  I  delineate 

1  ['It  is  not  speaking  with  exaggeration,  but  with  strict  measured 
sobriety,  to  say  that  this  book  of  Boswell's  will  give  us  more  real  insight 
into  the  "  History  of  England"  during  those  days  than  twenty  other 
books  falsely  entitled  Histories '  {Cari.vi,r's  Misceiianits).— A.  B.] 


6  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON 

him  without  reserve,  I   do  what  he  himself  recom- 
mendedj  hoth  by  his  precept  and  his  example  : 

*If  the  biographer  writes  from  personal  knowledge,  and 
makes  haste  to  gratify  the  public  curiosity,  there  is  danger 
lest  his  interest,  his  fear,  his  gratitude,  or  his  tenderness, 
overpower  his  fidelity,  and  tempt  him  to  conceal,  if  not  to 
invent.  There  are  many  who  think  it  an  act  of  piety  to  hide 
the  faults  or  failings  of  their  friends,  even  when  they  can  no 
longer  suffer  by  their  detection ;  we  therefore  see  whole  ranks 
of  characters  adorned  with  uniform  panegyric,  and  not  to  be 
known  from  one  another  but  by  extrinsic  and  casual  circum- 
stances. "  Let  me  remember  (says  Hale),  when  I  find  myself 
inclined  to  pity  a  criminal,  that  there  is  likewise  a  pity  due 
to  the  country."  If  we  owe  regard  to  the  memory  of  the 
dead,  there  is  yet  more  respect  to  be  paid  to  knowledge,  to 
virtue,  and  to  truth.'  i 

What  I  consider  as  the  peculiar  value  of  the  fol- 
lowing work,  is,  the  quantity  it  contains  of  Johnson's 
conversation,  which  is  universally  acknowledged  to 
have  been  eminently  instructive  and  entertaining; 
and  of  which  the  specimens  that  I  have  given  upon 
a  former  occasion,  have  been  received  with  so  much 
approbation,  that  I  have  good  grounds  for  supposing 
that  the  world  will  not  be  indifferent  to  more  ample 
communications  of  a  similar  nature. 

That  the  conversation  of  a  celebrated  man,  if  his 
talents  have  been  exerted  in  conversation,  will  best 
display  his  character,  is,  I  trust,  too  well  established 
in  the  judgment  of  mankind  to  be  at  all  shaken  by  a 
sneering  observation  of  Mr.  Mason,  in  his  Memoirs  of 
Mr,  William  Whitehead,  in  which  there  is  literally  no 
Life,  but  a  mere  dry  narrative  of  facts.  I  do  not  think 
it  was  quite  necessary  to  attempt  a  depreciation  of 


1  Rambler,  No.  60. 


LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON  7 

what  is  universally  esteemed,  because  it  was  not  to  be 
found  in  the  immediate  object  of  the  ingenious  writer's 
pen  ;  for,  in  truth,  from  a  man  so  still  and  so  tame,  aS 
to  be  contented  to  pass  many  years  as  the  domestic 
companion  of  a  superannuated  lord  and  lady,  convert 
sation  could  no  more  be  expected  than  from  a  Chinese? 
mandarin  on  a  chimney-piece,  or  the  fantastic  figures 
on  a  gilt  leather  screen. 

If  authority  be  required,  let  us  appeal  to  Plutarch, 
the  prince  of  ancient  biographers.  Ovre  toIs  enKpa- 
petrrdTais  Trpd^eanravTas  eveari,  SrjXaxns  dpfTTJs  77  KaKias, 
aXka  Trpdyfia  ^pa)(y  voWaKis,  Kol  prjfia,  kuI  naibid  tis, 
efKJiacriu  rjBovs  enoirja-ev  fidWov,  fj  fid^ai  fivpioveKpoi, 
irapard^ets  al  fieyiarai,  Ka\  TroXiopKia  iToXeav.  '  Nor  is 
it  always  in  the  most  distinguished  achievements  that 
men's  virtues  or  vices  may  be  best  discerned  ;  but  very 
often  an  action  of  small  note,  a  short  saying,  or  a  jest, 
shall  distinguish  a  person's  real  character  more  than 
the  greatest  sieges,  or  the  most  important  battles. '  ^ 

To  this  may  be  added  the  sentiments  of  the  very 
man  whose  life  I  am  about  to  exhibit : 

"The  business  of  the  biographer  is  often  to  pass  slightly 
over  those  performances  and  incidents  which  produce  vulgar 
greatness,  to  lead  the  thoughts  into  domestic  privacies,  and 
display  the  minute  details  of  daily  life,  where  exterior  ap- 
pendages are  cast  aside,  and  men  excel  each  other  only  by 
prudence  and  by  virtue.  The  account  of  Thuanus  is  with 
great  propriety  said  by  its  author  to  have  been  written  that 
it  might  lay  open  to  posterity  the  private  and  familiar  character 
of  that  man,  cujus  ingenium  et  ccmdorem  ex  ipsius  scriptis  sunt 
olim  semper  miraturi,  whose  candour  and  genius  will  to  the 
end  of  time  be  by  his  writings  preserved  in  admiration. 

'  There  are  many  invisible  circumstances,  which,  whether 


1  Plutarch's  Li/e  c/ Alexander,  init. — Langbome's  translation. 


8  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON 

we  read  as  inquirers  after  natviral  or  moral  knowledge,  whether 
we  intend  to  enlarge  our  science  or  increase  oxir  virtue,  are 
more  important  than  public  occurrences.  Thus  Sallust,  the 
great  master  of  nature,  has  not  forgot  in  his  account  of 
Catiline  to  remark,  that  his  walk  was  now  quick,  and  again 
slow,  as  an  indication  of  a  mind  revolving  with  violent  com- 
motion. Thus  the  story  of  Melanchthon  affords  a  striking 
lecture  on  the  value  of  time,  by  informing  us,  that  when  he 
had  made  an  appointment,  he  expected  not  only  the  hour  but 
the  minute  to  be  fixed,  that  the  day  might  not  run  out  in  the 
idleness  of  suspense  ;  and  all  the  plans  and  enterprises  of  De 
Witt  are  now  of  less  importance  to  the  world  than  that  part 
of  his  personal  character,  which  represents  him  as  careful  of 
his  health,  and  negligent  of  his  life. 

'  But  biography  has  often  been  allotted  to  writers,  who  seem 
very  little  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  their  task,  or  very 
negligent  about  the  performance.  They  rarely  afford  any 
other  account  than  might  be  collected  from  public  papers, 
but  imagine  themselves  writing  a  life,  when  they  exhibit  a 
chronological  series  of  actions  or  preferments;  and  have  so 
little  regard  to  the  manners  or  behaviour  of  their  heroes,  that 
more  knowledge  may  be  gained  of  a  man's  real  character,  by  a 
short  conversation  with  one  of  his  servants,  than  from  a  formal 
and  studied  narrative,  begun  with  his  pedigree,  and  ended  with 
his  fimeral. 

'  There  are,  indeed,  some  natural  reasons  why  these  narra- 
tives are  often  written  by  such  as  were  not  likely  to  give  much 
instruction  or  delight,  and  why  most  accounts  of  particular 
persons  are  barren  and  useless.  If  a  life  be  delayed  tiU  interest 
and  envy  are  at  an  end,  we  may  hope  for  impartiality,  but 
must  expect  little  intelligence ;  for  the  incidents  which  give 
excellence  to  biography  are  of  a  volatile  and  evanescent  kind, 
such  as  soon  escape  the  memory,  and  are  rarely  transmitted  by 
tradition.  We  know  how  few  can  portray  a  living  acquaintance, 
except  by  his  most  prominent  and  observable  particularities, 
and  the  grosser  features  of  his  mind ;  and  it  may  be  easily 
imagined  how  much  of  this  little  knowledge  may  be  lost  in 
imparting  it,  and  how  soon  a  succession  of  copies  will  lose  all 
resemblance  of  the  original.'  i 


1  Rambler,  No.  60, 


LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  9 

I  am  fully  aware  of  the  objections  which  may  be 
made  to  the  minuteness  on  some  occasions  of  my 
detail  of  Johnson's  conversation,  and  how  happily  it 
is  adapted  for  the  petty  exercise  of  ridicule  by  men  of 
superficial  understanding  and  ludicrous  fancy  :  but  I 
remain  firm  and  confident  in  my  opinion  that  minute 
particulars  are  frequently  characteristic,  and  always 
amusing,  when  they  relate  to  a  distinguished  man.  I 
am  therefore  exceedingly  unwilling  that  anything, 
however  slight,  which  my  illustrious  friend  thought  it 
worth  his  while  to  express  with  any  degree  of  point 
should  perish.  For  this  almost  superstitious  rever- 
ence, I  have  found  very  old  and  venerable  authority, 
quoted  by  our  great  modern  prelate.  Seeker,  in  whose 
tenth  sermon  there  is  the  following  passage  : 

'  Rabbi  David  Kimchi,  a  noted  Jewish  commentator,  who 
lived  about  five  hundred  years  ago,  explains  that  passage  in 
the  first  Psalm,  His  leaf  also  shall  Twt  wither,  from  Rabbins 
yet  older  than  himself,  thus :  That  even  the  idle  talk,  so  he 
expresses  it,  of  a  good  man  ought  to  he  regarded ;  the  most 
superfluous  things  he  saith  are  always  of  some  value.  And 
other  ancient  authors  have  the  same  phrase,  nearly  in  the 
same  sense.' 

Of  one  thing  I  am  certain,  that  considering  how 
highly  the  small  portion  which  we  have  of  the  table- 
talk  and  other  anecdotes  of  our  celebrated  writers  is 
valued,  and  how  earnestly  it  is  regretted  that  we  have 
not  more,  I  am  justified  in  preserving  rather  too  many 
of  Johnson's  sayings  than  too  few,  especially  as  from 
the  diversity  of  dispositions  it  cannot  be  known  with 
ceilainty  beforehand  whether  what  may  seem  trifling 
to  some,  and  perhaps  to  the  collector  himself,  may  not 
be  most  agreeable  to  many  ;  and  the  greater  number 


10  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1709 

that  an  author  can  please  in  any  degree^  the  more 
pleasure  does  there  arise  to  a  benevolent  mind. 

To  those  who  are  weak  enough  to  think  this  a 
degrading  task,  and  the  time  and  labour  which  have 
been  devoted  to  it  misemployed,  I  shall  content  myself 
with  opposing  the  authority  of  the  greatest  man  of  any 
age,  Julius  Caesar,  of  whom  Bacon  observes  that  *in 
his  book  of  Apophthegms  which  he  collected  we  see 
that  he  esteemed  it  more  honour  to  make  himself  but 
a  pair  of  tables,  to  take  the  wise  and  pithy  words  of 
others,  than  to  have  every  word  of  his  own  to  be  made 
an  apophthegm  or  an  oracle. '  ^ 

Having  said  thus  much  by  way  of  introduction,  I 
commit  the  following  pages  to  the  candour  of  the 
public. 

Samuel  Johnson  was  born  at  Lichfield,  in  Stafford- 
shire, on  the  18th  of  September,  n.s.  1709 ;  and  his^ 
initiation  into  the  Christian  Church  was  not  delayed  ;. 
for  his  baptism  is  recorded  in  the  register  of  St.  Mary's 
parish  in  that  city,  to  have  been  performed  on  the  day 
of  his  birth  :  his  father  is  there  styled  Gentleman, 
a  circumstance  of  which  an  ignorant  panegyrist  has 
praised  him  for  not  being  proud,  when  the  truth  is 
that  the  appellation  of  Gentleman,  though  now  lost  in 
the  indiscriminate  assumption  of  Esquire,  was  com- 
monly taken  by  those  who  could  not  boast  of  gentility. 
His  father  was  Michael  Johnson,  a  native  of  Derby- 
shire, of  obscure  extraction,  who  settled  in  Lichfield 
as  a  bookseller  and  stationer.  His  mother  was  Sarah 
Ford,  descended  from  an  ancient  race  of  substantial 
yeomanry  in  Warwickshire.    They  were  well  advanced 

1  Bacon's  Advancement  0/ Learning,  Book  i. 


LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  11 

in  years  when  they  married,  and  never  had  more  than 
two  children,  both  sons  ;  Samuel,  their  first-born,  who 
lived  to  be  the  illustrious  character  whose  various 
excellence  I  am  to  endeavour  to  record,  and  Nathanael, 
who  died  in  his  twenty-fifth  year.^ 

Mr.  Michael  Johnson  was  a  man  of  a  large  and 
robust  body,  and  of  a  strong  and  active  mind  ;  yet,  as 
in  the  most  solid  rocks  veins  of  unsound  substance  are 
often  discovered,  there  was  in  him  a  mixture  of  that 
disease,  the  nature  of  which  eludes  the  most  minute 
inquiry,  though  the  effects  are  well  known  to  be  a 
weariness  of  life,  an  unconcern  about  those  things 
which  agitate  the  greater  part  of  mankind,  and  a 
general  sensation  of  gloomy  wretchedness.  From  him 
then  his  son  inherited,  with  some  other  qualities,  'a 
vile  melancholy,'  which  in  his  too  strong  expression 
of  any  disturbance  of  the  mind,  '  made  him  mad  all 
his  life,  at  least  not  sober. '^  Michael  was,  however, 
forced  by  the  narrowness  of  his  circumstances  to  be 
very  diligent  in  business,  not  only  in  his  shop,  but  by 
occasionally  resorting  to  several  towns  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood,^ some   of  which   were    at  a  considerable 

1  [Nathanael  was  born  in  1712,  and  died  in  1737.  Their  father, 
Michael  Johnson,  was  born  at  Cubley,  in  Derbyshire,  in  1656,  and 
died  at  Lichfield  in  1731,  at  the  age  of  seventy-six.  Sarah  Ford,  his 
wife,  was  born  at  King's-Norton,*  m  the  county  of  Warwick,  in  1669,. 
and  died  at  Lichfield  in  January  1759,  in  her  ninetieth  year. — M.] 

'^  Joumalofa  Tour  to  the  Hebrides,  3rd  ed.,  p.  213. 

3  Extract  of  a  letter,  dated  '  Trentham,  St.  Peter's  day,  1716,'  written 
by  the  Rev.  George  Plaxton,  chaplain  at  that  time  to  Lord  Gower, 
which  may  serve  to  show  the  high  estimation  in  which  the  father  of  our 
great  moralist  was  held  : — '  Johnson,  the  Lichfield  librarian,  is  now  here; 
he  propagates  learning  all  over  this  diocess,  and  advanceth  knowledge 
to  its  just  height ;  all  the  clergy  here  are  his  pupils,  and  suck  all  they 
have  from  him  ;  Allen  cannot  make  a  warrant  without  his  precedent, 
nor  our  quondam  John  Evans  draw  a  recognisance  sine  directione 
Michaehi.' — Gentleman's  Magazine,  Oct.  1791. 


•  King's-Norton  is  here  stated  to  be  in  Warwickshire,  on  th*  authority  of  Dr. 
Johnson  (see  his  inscription  tor  his  mother's  tomb),  but  it  is  in  Worcestershire,  pro> 
bably  on  tbe  confines  of  the  county  of  Warwick. 


12  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON 

distance  from  Lichfield.  At  that  time  booksellers' 
shopSj  in  the  provincial  towns  of  England,  were  very 
rare ;  so  that  there  was  not  one  even  in  Birmingham, 
in  which  town  old  Mr.  Johnson  used  ^to  open  a  shop 
every  market-day.  He  was  a  pretty  good  Latin  scholar, 
and  a  citizen  so  creditable  as  to  be  made  one  of  the 
magistrates  of  Lichfield ;  and  being  a  man  of  good 
sense,  and  skill  in  his  trade,  he  acquired  a  reasonable 
share  of  wealth,  of  which,  however,  he  afterwards  lost 
the  greatest  part,  by  engaging  unsuccessfully  in  a 
manufacture  of  parchment.  He  was  a  zealous  high- 
churchman  and  royalist,  and  retained  his  attachment 
to  the  unfortunate  house  of  Stuart,  though  he  recon- 
ciled himself,  by  casuistical  arguments  of  expediency 
and  necessity,  to  take  the  oaths  imposed  by  the 
prevailing  power. 

There  is  a  circumstance  in  his  life  somewhat 
romantic,  but  so  well  authenticated,  that  I  shall  not 
omit  it.  A  young  woman  of  Leek  in  Stafi'ordshire, 
while  he  served  his  apprenticeship  there,  conceived  a 
violent  passion  for  him ;  and  though  it  met  with  no 
favourable  return,  followed  him  to  Lichfield,  where 
she  took  lodgings  opposite  to  the  house  in  which  he 
lived,  and  indulged  her  hopeless  flame.  When  he 
was  informed  that  it  so  preyed  upon  her  mind  that 
her  life  was  in  danger,  he  with  a  generous  humanity 
went  to  her  and  oflFered  to  marry  her,  but  it  was  then 
too  late :  her  vital  power  was  exhausted ;  and  she 
actually  exhibited  one  of  the  very  rare  instances  of 
dying  for  love.  She  was  buried  in  the  cathedral  of 
Lichfield ;  and  he,  with  a  tender  regard,  placed  a  stoue 
over  her  grave  with  this  inscription  : 


LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  13 

Here  lies  the  body  of 

Airs.  Elizabeth  Blanet,  a  stranger ; 

She  departed  this  life 

20th  of  September  1694. 

Johnson's  mother  was  a  woman  of  distinguished 
understanding.  1  I  asked  his  old  schoolfellow,  Mr. 
Hector,  surgeon,  of  Birmingham,  if  she  was  not  vain 
of  her  son.  He  said,  '  She  had  too  much  good  sense 
to  be  vain,  but  she  knew  her  son's  value.'  Her  piety- 
was  not  inferior  to  her  understanding ;  and  to  her 
must  be  ascribed  those  early  impressions  of  religion 
upon  the  mind  of  her  son,  from  which  the  world  after- 
wards derived  so  much  benefit.  He  told  me  that  he 
remembered  distinctly  having  had  the  first  notice  of 
Heaven,  'a  place  to  which  good  people  went,'  and 
Hell,  '  a  place  to  which  bad  people  went,'  communi- 
cated to  him  by  her,  when  a  little  child  in  bed  with 
her ;  and  that  it  might  be  the  better  fixed  in  his 
memory,  she  sent  him  to  repeat  it  to  Thomas  Jackson, 
their  man-servant ;  he  not  being  in  the  way,  this  was 


1  [It  was  not,  however,  much  cultivated,  as  we  may  collect  from  Dr. 
Johnson's  own  account  of  his  early  years,  published  by  R.  Phillips,  8vo, 
i3o5,  a  work  undoubtedly  authentic,  and  which,  though  short,  is 
curious  and  well  worthy  of  perusal.  '  My  father  and  mother  (says 
Johnson)  had  not  much  happiness  from  each  other.  They  seldom  con- 
versed, for  my  father  could  not  bear  to  talk  of  his  affairs,  and  my 
mother,  being  unacquainted  -with  books,  cared  not  to  talk  of  anything 
else.  Had  my  mother  been  more  literate,  they  had  been  better  com- 
panions. She  might  have  sometimes  introduced  her  unwelcome  topic 
with  more  success  if  she  could  have  diversified  her  conversation.  Of 
business  she  had  no  distinct  conception,  and  therefore  her  discourse 
was  composed  only  of  complaint,  fear,  and  suspicion.  Neither  of  them 
ever  tried  to  calculate  the  profits  of  trade  or  the  expenses  of  living. 
My  mother  concluded  that  we  were  poor  because  we  lost  by  some  of  our 
trades,  but  the  truth  was  that  my  father,  having  in  the  early  part  of  his 
life  contracted  debts,  never  had  trade  sufiicient  to  enable  him  to  pay 
them  and  to  maintain  his  family :  he  got  something,  but  not  enough. 
It  was  not  till  about  1768  that  I  thought  to  calculate  the  returns  of  my 
father's  trade,  and,  by  that  estimate,  his  probable  profits.  This,  i 
believe,  my  parents  never  did.' — M.] 


14  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1712 

not  done  ;  but  there  was  no  occasion  for  any  artificial 
aid  for  its  preservation. 

In  following  so  very  eminent  a  man  from  his  cradle 
to  his  grave,  every  minute  particular  which  can  throw 
light  on  the  progress  of  his  mind  is  interesting.  That 
he  was  remarkable  even  in  his  earliest  years  may 
easily  be  supposed ;  for  to  use  his  own  words  in  his 
Life  of  Sydenham,  'That  the  strength  of  his  under- 
standing, the  accuracy  of  his  discernment,  and  the 
ardour  of  his  curiosity,  might  have  been  remarked 
from  his  infancy  by  a  diligent  observer  there  is  no 
reason  to  doubt ;  for  there  is  no  instance  of  any  man 
whose  history  has  been  minutely  related  that  did  not 
in  every  part  of  life  discover  the  same  proportion  of 
intellectual  vigour.* 

In  all  such  investigations  it  is  certainly  unwise  to 
pay  too  much  attention  to  incidents  which  the  credu- 
lous relate  with  eager  satisfaction  and  the  more 
scrupulous  or  witty  inquirer  considers  only  as  topics 
of  ridicule ;  yet  there  is  a  traditional  story  of  the 
infant  Hercules  of  toryism,  so  curiously  characteristic 
that  I  shall  not  withhold  it.  It  was  communicated  to 
me  in  a  letter  from  Miss  Mary  Ady  of  Lichfield  : 

•When  Dr.  Sacheverel  was  at  Lichfield,  Johnson  was  not 
qtiite  three  years  old.  My  grandfather  Hammond  observed 
him  at  the  cathedral  perched  upon  his  father's  shoulders, 
listening  and  gaping  at  the  much  celebrated  preacher.  Mr. 
Hammond  asked  Mr.  Johnson  how  he  could  possibly  think  of 
bringing  such  an  infant  to  chiurch,  and  in  the  midst  of  so  great  a 
crowd.  He  answered  because  it  was  impossible  to  keep  him 
at  home,  for,  young  as  he  was,  he  beheved  he  had  caught 
the  public  spirit  and  zeal  for  Sacheverel,  and  would  have 
stayed  for  ever  in  the  church,  satisfied  with  beholding 
him.' 


iET.  3]       LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  15 

Nor  can  I  omit  a  little  instance  of  that  jealous  inde- 
pendence of  spirit  and  impetuosity  of  temper  which 
never  forsook  him.  The  fact  was  acknowledged  to  me 
by  himself^  upon  the  authority  of  his  mother.  One 
day  when  the  servant  who  used  to  be  sent  to  school 
to  conduct  him  home  had  not  come  in  time,  he  set 
out  by  himself,  though  he  was  then  so  near-sighted 
that  he  was  obliged  to  stoop  down  on  his  hands 
and  knees  to  take  a  view  of  the  kennel  before  he 
ventured  to  step  over  it.  His  [schoolmistress,  afraid 
that  he  might  miss  his  way,  or  fall  into  the  kennel, 
or  be  run  over  by  a  cart,  followed  him  at  some 
distance.  He  happened  to  turn  about  and  perceive 
her.  Feeling  her  careful  attention  as  an  insult  to 
his  manliness,  he  ran  back  to  her  in  a  rage,  and  beat 
her  as  well  as  his  strength  would  permit. 

Of  the  power  of  his  memory,  for  which  he  was  all 
his  life  eminent  to  a  degree  almost  incredible,  the 
following  early  instance  was  told  me  in  his  presence 
at  Lichfield,  in  1776,  by  his  step-daughter,  Mrs.  Lucy 
Porter,  as  related  to  her  by  his  mother.  When  he 
was  a  chUd  in  petticoats,  and  had  learnt  to  read,  Mrs. 
Johnson  one  morning  put  the  Common  Prayer  Book 
into  his  hands,  pointed  to  the  collect  for  the  day,  and 
said,  '  Sam,  you  must  get  this  by  heart.'  She  went  up- 
stairs, leaving  him  to  study  it ;  but  by  the  time  she 
had  reached  the  second  floor,  she  heard  him  following 
her.  'What's  the  matter .'''  said  she.  'I  can  say 
it,'  he  replied ;  and  repeated  it  distinctly,  though  he 
could  not  have  read  it  more  than  twice. 

But  there  has  been  another  story  of  his  infant  pre- 
cocity generally  circulated,  and  generally  believed, 
the  truth   of  which  I   am  to  refute  upon  his  own 


16  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON 

authority.  It  is  told  ^  that^  when  a  child  of  three 
years  old,  he  chanced  to  tread  upon  a  duckling,  the 
eleventh  of  a  brood,  and  killed  it ;  upon  which,  it  is 
said,  he  dictated  to  his  mother  the  following  epitaph  : 
'  Here  lies  good  master  duck, 

Whom  Samuel  Johnson  trod  on ; 
If  it  had  lived,  it  had  been  good  luck. 

For  then  we  'd  had  an  odd  one.' 
There  is  surely  internal  evidence  that  this  little  com- 
position combines  in  it  what  no  child  of  three  years 
old  could  produce,  without  an  extension  of  its  faculties 
by  immediate  inspiration ;  yet  Mrs.  Lucy  Porter,  Dr. 
Johnson's  step-daughter,  positively  maintained  to  me, 
in  his  presence,  that  there  could  be  no  doubt  of  the 
truth  of  this  anecdote,  for  she  had  heard  it  from  his 
mother.  So  difficult  is  it  to  obtain  an  authentic  rela- 
tion of  facts,  and  such  authority  may  there  be  for 
error;  for  he  assured  me,  that  his  father  made  the 
verses,  and  wished  to  pass  them  for  his  child's.  He 
added,  '  My  father  was  a  foolish  old  man ;  that  is  to 
say,  foolish  in  talking  of  his  children. '  ^ 

Young  Johnson   had  the  misfortune  to  be  much 

1  Anecdotes  of  Dr.  Johnson,  by  Hester  Lynch  Piozzi.  L\fe  of  Dr. 
Johnson.,  by  Sir  John  Hawkins,  p.  6. 

2  This  anecdote  of  the  duck,  though  disproved  by  internal  and  ex- 
ternal evidence,  has  nevertheless,  upon  supposition  of  its  truth,  beea 
made  the  foundation  of  the  following  ingenious  and  fanciful  reflections 
of  Miss  Seward,  amongst  the  communications  concerning  Dr.  Johnson 
with  which  she  has  been  pleased  to  favour  me  : — 

'  These  infant  numbers  contain  the  seeds  of  those  propensities 
which  through  his  life  so  strongly  marked  his  character,  of  that  poetic 
talent  which  afterwards  bore  such  rich  and  plentiful  fruits  ;  for,  except- 
ing his  orthographic  works,  everything  which  Dr.  Johnson  wrote  was 
poetry,  whose  essence  consists,  not  in  numbers,  or  in  jingle,  but  in  the 
strength  and  glow  of  a  fancy,  to  which  all  the  stores  of  nature  and  of 
art  stand  in  prompt  administration,  and  in  an  eloquence  which  conveys 
their  blended  illustrations  in  a  language  "more  tuneable  than  needs  or 
rhyme  or  verse  to  add  more  harmony. 

The  above  little  verses  also  show  that  superstitious  bias  which 
"grew  with  his  growth,  and  strengthened  with  his  strength,"  and  of 
late  years  particularly,  injured  his  happiness    by  presenting  to  him 


LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  17 

afflicted  with  the  scrofula,  or  king's  evil,  which  dis- 
figured a  countenance  naturally  well  formed,  and  hurt 
his  visual  nerves  so  much,  that  he  did  not  see  at  all 
with  one  of  his  eyes,  though  its  appearance  was  little 
diflferent  from  that  of  the  other.  There  is  amongst 
his  prayers  one  inscribed,  '  When  my  eye  was  restored 
to  its  use,'  ^  which  ascertains  a  defect  that  many  of  his 
friends  knew  he  had,  though  I  never  perceived  it.* 
I  supposed  him  to  be  only  near-sighted ;  and  indeed  I 
must  observe,  that  in  no  other  respect  could  I  discern 
any  defect  in  his  vision  ;  on  the  contrary,  the  force  of 
his  attention  and  perceptive  quickness  made  him  see 
and  distinguish  all  manner  of  objects,  whether  of 
nature  or  of  art,  with  a  nicety  that  is  rarely  to  be 
found.  When  he  and  I  were  travelling  in  the  High- 
lands of  Scotland,  and  I  pointed  out  to  him  a  mountain 
which  I  observed  resembled  a  cone,  he  corrected  my 
inaccuracy,  by  showing  me,  that  it  was  indeed  pointed 
at  the  top,  but  that  one  side  of  it  was  larger  than  the 
other.  And  the  ladies  with  whom  he  was  acquainted 
agree  that  no  man  was  more  nicely  and  minutely 
critical  in  the  elegance  of  female  dress.  When  I 
found  that  he  saw  the  romantic  beauties  of  Islam,  in 
Derbyshire,  much  better  than  I  did,  I  told  him  that 
he  resembled  an  able  performer  upon  a  bad  instru- 
ment. How  false  and  contemptible,  then,  are  all  the 
remarks  which  have  been  made  to  the  prejudice  either 
of  his  candour  or  of  his  philosophy,  founded  upon  a 

the  gloomy  side  of  religion,  rather  than  that  bright  and  cheering  one 
which  gilds  the  period  of  closing  life  with  the  light  of  pious  hope." 

This  is  so  beautifully  imagined,  that  I  would  not  suppress  it.  But 
lik»  many  other  theories,  it  is  deduced  from  a  supposed  fact,  which  is 
indeed  a  fiction. 

1  Prayers  and  Meditations,  p.  27. 

2  [Speaking  himself  of  the  imperfection  of  one  of  his  eyes,  he  said 
to  Dr.  Barney,  '  the  dog  was  never  good  for  much.'] 


18  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON 

supposition  that  he  was  almost  blind !  It  has  been 
said  that  he  contracted  this  grievous  malady  from  his 
nurse.  ^  His  mother,  yielding  to  the  superstitious 
notion  which,  it  is  wonderful  to  think,  prevailed  so 
long  in  this  country,  as  to  the  virtue  of  the  regal 
touch — a  notion  which  our  kings  encouraged,  and  to 
which  a  man  of  such  inquiry  and  such  judgment  as 
Carte  could  give  credit — carried  him  to  London,  where 
he  was  actually  touched  by  Queen  Anne.^  Mrs. 
Johnson  indeed,  as  Mr,  Hector  informed  me,  acted 
by  the  advice  of  the  celebrated  Sir  John  Floyer,  then 
a  physician  in  Lichfield.  Johnson  used  to  talk  of  this 
very  frankly  ;  and  Mrs.  Piozzi  has  preserved  his  very 
picturesque  description  of  the  scene,  as  it  remained 
upon  his  fancy.  Being  asked  if  he  could  remember 
Queen  Anne, — 'He  had  (he  said)  a  confused,  but 
somehow  a  sort  of  solemn  recollection  of  a  lady  in 
diamonds,  and  a  long  black  hood.'  ^  This  touch,  how 
ever,  was  without  any  effect.  I  ventured  to  say  to 
him,  in  allusion  to  the  political  principles  in  which  he 
was  educated,  and  of  which  he  ever  retained  some 
odour,  that  'his  mother  had  not  carried  him  far 
enough,  she  should  have  taken  him  to  Rome.'* 


1  [Such  was  the  opinion  of  Dr.  Swinfen.  Johnson's  eyes  were  very 
soon  discovered  to  be  bad,  and  to  relieve  them,  an  issue  was  cut  in  his 
left  arm.  At  the  end  of  ten  weeks  from  his  birth,  he  was  taken  home 
from  his  nurse,  'a  poor  diseased  infant,  almost  blind.'  See  a  work, 
already  quoted,  entitled.  An  Account  of  the  Life  of  Dr.  Samuel 
Johnson,  from  his  birth  to  his  eleventh  year;  written  by  hitnself.  8vo. 
1805.— M.] 

*  [He  was  only  thirty  months  old  when  he  was  taken  to  London  to 
be  touched  for  the  evil.  During  this  visit,  he  tells  us,  his  mother 
purchased  for  him  a  small  silver  cup  and  spoon.  '  The  cup,'  he  aflfect- 
ingly  adds,  '  was  one  of  the  last  pieces  of  plate  which  dear  Tetty  sold 
in  our  distress.  I  have  now  the  spoon.  She  bought  at  the  same  time 
two  tea-spoons,  and  till  my  manhood,  she  had  no  more.'    Ibid. — M.] 

8  Anecdotes. 

*  [Queen  Anne  was  the  last  of  our  sovereigns  who  touched,  though  the 
service  was  printed  in  the  Book  of  Conunon  Prayer  as  late  as  1719. — A.  B.l 


LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON  19 

He  was  first  taught  to  read  English  by  Dame 
Oliver,  a  widow,  who  kept  a  school  for  young  children 
in  Lichfield.  He  told  me  she  could  read  the  black 
letter,  and  asked  him  to  borrow  for  her,  from  his 
father,  a  Bible  in  that  character.  When  he  was  going 
to  Oxford,  she  came  to  take  leave  of  him,  brought 
him,  in  the  simplicity  of  her  kindness,  a  present  of 
gingerbread,  and  said  he  was  the  best  scholar  she  ever 
had.  He  delighted  in  mentioning  this  early  compli- 
ment, adding,  with  a  smile,  that  '  this  was  as  high  a 
proof  of  his  merit  as  he  could  conceive.'  His  next 
instructor  in  English  was  a  master  whom,  when  he 
spoke  of  him  to  me,  he  familiarly  called  Tom  Brown, 
who,  said  he, '  published  a  spelling-book,  and  dedicated 
it  to  the  Universe  ;  but  I  fear  no  copy  of  it  can  now 
be  had.' 

He  began  to  learn  Latin  with  Mr.  Hawkins,  usher, 
or  under-master  of  Lichfield  school,  'a  man  (said  he) 
very  skilful  in  his  little  way. '  With  him  he  continued 
two  years,  and  then  rose  to  be  under  the  care  of 
Mr.  Hunter,  the  head-master,  who,  according  to  his 
account,  '  was  very  severe,  and  wrong-headedly  severe. 
He  used  (said  he)  to  beat  us  unmercifully  ;  and  he  did 
not  distinguish  between  ignorance  and  negligence; 
for  he  would  beat  a  boy  equally  for  not  knowing  a 
thing,  as  for  neglecting  to  know  it.  He  would  ask  a 
boy  a  question,  and  if  he  did  not  answer  it,  he  would 
beat  him,  without  considering  whether  he  had  an 
opportunity  of  knowing  how  to  answer  it.  For  in- 
stance, he  would  call  up  a  boy  and  ask  him  Latin  for 
a  candlestick,  which  the  boy  could  not  expect  to  be 
asked.  Now,  sir,  if  a  boy  could  answer  every  question, 
there  would  be  no  need  of  a  master  to  teach  him.* 


20  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON 

It  is,  however,  but  justice  to  the  memory  of  Mr. 
Hunter  to  mention,  that  though  he  might  err  in 
being  too  severe,  the  school  of  Lichfield  was  very 
respectable  in  his  time.  The  late  Dr.  Taylor,  Pre- 
bendary of  Westminster,  who  was  educated  under 
him,  told  me  that  'he  was  an  excellent  master,  and 
that  his  ushers  were  most  of  them  men  of  eminence ; 
that  Holbrook,  one  of  the  most  ingenious  men,  best 
scholars,  and  best  preachers  of  his  age,  was  usher 
during  the  greatest  part  of  the  time  that  Johnson 
was  at  school.  Then  came  Hague,  of  whom  as  much 
might  be  said,  with  the  addition  that  he  was  an  ele- 
gant poet.  Hague  was  succeeded  by  Green,  after- 
wards Bishop  of  Lincoln,  whose  character  in  the 
learned  world  is  well  known.  In  the  same  form  with 
Johnson  was  Congreve,  who  afterwards  became  chap- 
lain to  Archbishop  Boulter,  and  by  that  connection 
obtained  good  preferment  in  Ireland.  He  was  a 
younger  son  of  the  ancient  family  of  Congreve,  in 
Staffordshire,  of  which  the  poet  was  a  branch.  His 
brother  sold  the  estate.  There  was  also  Lowe,  after- 
wards Canon  of  Windsor. ' 

Indeed  Johnson  was  very  sensible  how  much  he 
owed  to  Mr.  Hunter.  Mr.  Langton  one  day  asked 
him  how  he  had  acquired  so  accurate  a  knowledge 
of  Latin,  in  which,  I  believe,  he  was  exceeded  by 
no  man  of  his  time  ;  he  said,  '  My  master  whipped  me 
very  well.  Without  that,  sir,  I  should  have  done 
nothing.'  He  told  Mr.  Langton,  that  while  Hunter 
was  flogging  his  boys  unmercifully,  he  used  to  say, 
'And  this  I  do  to  save  you  from  the  gallows.' 
Johnson,  upon  all  occasions,  expressed  his  appro- 
bation  of  enforcing   instruction   by    means    of   the 


LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  21 

rod.^  '  I  would  rather  (said  he)  have  the  rod  to  be 
the  general  terror  to  all,  to  make  them  learn,  than 
tell  a  child,  if  you  do  thus,  or  thus,  you  will  be  more 
esteemed  than  your  brothers  or  sisters.  The  rod 
produces  an  eiFect  which  terminates  in  itself.  A  child 
is  afraid  of  being  whipped,  and  gets  his  task,  and 
there 's  an  end  on 't ;  whereas,  by  exciting  emulation 
and  comparisons  of  superiority,  you  lay  the  founda- 
tion of  lasting  mischief;  you  make  brothers  and 
sisters  hate  each  other. ' 

When  Johnson  saw  some  young  ladies  in  Lincoln- 
shire who  were  remarkably  well  behaved,  owing  to 
their  mother's  strict  discipline  and  severe  correction, 
he  exclaimed,  in  one  of  Shakespeare's  lines  a  little 
varied,^ 

*Eod,  I  will  honour  thee  for  this  thy  duty.' 

That  superiority  over  his  fellows,  which  he  main- 
tained with  so  much  dignity  in  his  march  through 
life,  was  not  assumed  from  vanity  and  ostentation, 
but  was  the  natural  and  constant  effect  of  those  extra- 
ordinary powers  of  mind,  of  which  he  could  not  but 
be  conscious  by  comparison  ;  the  intellectual  differ- 
ence, which  in  other  cases  of  comparison  of  characters, 
is  often  a  matter  of  undecided  contest,  being  as  clear 
in  his  case  as  the  superiority  of  stature  in  some  men 
above  others.  Johnson  did  not  strut  or  stand  on  tip- 
toe ;  he  only  did  not  stoop.  From  his  earliest  years 
his  superiority  was  perceived  and  acknowledged.     He 

1  [Johnson's  observations  to  Dr.  Rose  on  this  subject  may  be  found  in 
a  subsequent  part  of  this  work.     See  vol.  ii.  near  the  end  of  the  year 

1775.— BURNEV.] 

2  [More  than  a  little.  The  line  is  in  /arts'  H'nry  VI.,  Part  ii. 
Act  iv.  Sc.  last : 

'  Sword,  I  will  hallow  thee  for  this  thy  deed.'— M.] 


22  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON 

was  from  the  beginning  ai/a|  avbpav,  a  king  of  men. 
His  schoolfellow,  Mr.  Hector,  has  obligingly  furnished 
me  with  many  particulars  of  his  boyish  days;  and 
assured  me  that  he  never  knew  him  corrected  at 
school,  but  for  talking  and  diverting  other  boys  from 
their  business.  He  seemed  to  learn  by  intuition,  for 
though  indolence  and  procrastination  were  inherent 
in  his  constitution,  whenever  he  made  an  exertion 
he  did  more  than  any  one  else.  In  short,  he  is  a 
memorable  instance  of  what  has  been  often  observed, 
that  the  boy  is  the  man  in  miniature ;  and  that  the 
distinguishing  characteristics  of  each  individual  are 
the  same  through  the  whole  course  of  life.  His 
favourites  used  to  receive  very  liberal  assistance  from 
him ;  and  such  was  the  submission  and  deference  with 
which  he  was  treated,  such  the  desire  to  obtain  his 
regard,  that  three  of  the  boys,  of  whom  Mr.  Hector 
was  sometimes  one,  used  to  come  in  the  morning  as 
his  humble  attendants,  and  carry  him  to  school.  One 
in  the  middle  stooped,  while  he  sat  upon  his  back, 
and  one  on  each  side  supported  him  ;  and  thus  he  was 
borne  triumphant  Such  a  proof  of  the  early  pre- 
dominance of  intellectual  vigour  is  very  remarkable, 
and  does  honour  to  human  nature.  Talking  to  me 
once  himself  of  his  being  much  distinguished  at 
school,  he  told  me,  '  they  never  thought  to  raise  me 
by  comparing  me  to  any  one  ;  they  never  said  Johnson 
is  as  good  a  scholar  as  such  a  one ;  but  such  a  one  is 
as  good  a  scholar  as  Johnson  ;  and  this  was  said  but 
of  one,  but  of  Lowe ;  and  I  do  not  think  he  was  as 
good  a  scholar.' 

He  discovered  a  great  ambition  to  excel,   which 
roused  him  to  counteract  his  indolence.     He  was  un- 


LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  23 

commonly  inquisitive,  and  his  memory  was  so  tena- 
cious that  he  never  forgot  anything  that  he  either 
heard  or  read.  Mr.  Hector  remembers  having  recited 
to  him  eighteen  verses,  which,  after  a  little  pause,  he 
repeated  verbatim,  varying  only  one  epithet,  by  which 
he  improved  the  line. 

He  never  joined  with  the  other  boys  in  their  ordinary 
diversions  :  his  only  amusement  was  in  winter,  when 
he  took  a  pleasure  in  being  drawn  upon  the  ice  by  a 
boy  bare-footed,  who  pulled  him  along  by  a  garter 
fixed  round  him :  no  very  easy  operation,  as  his  size 
was  remarkably  large.  His  defective  sight,  indeed, 
prevented  him  from  enjoying  the  common  sports ;  and 
he  once  pleasantly  remarked  to  me,  '  how  wonderfully 
well  he  had  contrived  to  be  idle  without  them.'  Lord 
Chesterfield,  however,  has  justly  observed  in  one  of 
his  letters,  when  earnestly  cautioning  a  friend  against 
the  pernicious  efi"ects  of  idleness,  that  active  sports 
are  not  to  be  reckoned  idleness  in  young  people  ;  and 
that  the  listless  torpor  of  doing  nothing  alone  deserves 
that  name.  Of  this  dismal  inertness  of  disposition 
Johnson  had  all  his  life  too  great  a  share.  Mr.  Hector 
relates,  that  '  he  could  not  oblige  him  more  than  by 
sauntering  away  the  hours  of  vacation  in  the  fields, 
during  which  he  was  more  engaged  in  talking  to  him- 
self than  to  his  companion.' 

Dr.  Percy,  the  Bishop  of  Dromore,  who  was  long 
intimately  acquainted  with  him,  and  has  preserved  a 
few  anecdotes  concerning  him,  regretting  that  he  was 
not  a  more  diligent  collector,  informs  me  that  '  when 
a  boy  he  was  immoderately  fond  of  reading  romances 
of  chivalry,  and  he  retained  his  fondness  for  them 
through  life;   so  that  (adds  his  lordship)  spending 


24  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1725 

part  of  a  summer  at  my  parsonage-house  in  the 
country,  he  chose  for  his  regular  reading  the  old 
Spanish  romance  of  Felixmarte  of  Hircania,  in  folio, 
which  he  read  quite  through.  Yet  I  have  heard  him 
attribute  to  these  extravagant  fictions  that  unsettled 
turn  of  mind  which  prevented  his  ever  fixing  in  any 
profession.' 

After  having  resided  for  some  time  at  the  house  of 
his  uncle,^  Cornelius  Ford,  Johnson  was,  at  the  age 
of  fifteen,  removed  to  the  school  of  Stourbridge,  in 
Worcestershire,  of  which  Mr.  Wentworth  was  then 
master.  This  step  was  taken  by  the  advice  of  his 
cousin,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Ford,  a  man  in  whom  both 
talents  and  good  dispositions  were  disgraced  by  licen- 
tiousness,^  but  who  was  a  very  able  judge  of  what 
was  right.  At  this  school  he  did  not  receive  so 
much  benefit  as  was  expected.  It  has  been  said 
that  he  acted  in  the  capacity  of  an  assistant  to  Mr. 
Wentworth  in  teaching  the  younger  boys.  'Mr. 
Wentworth  (he  told  me)  was  a  very  able  man,  but  an 
idle  man,  and  to  me  very  severe ;  but  I  cannot  blame 
him  much.  I  was  then  a  big  boy ;  he  saw  I  did  not 
reverence  him  ;  and  that  he  should  get  no  honour  by 
me.  I  had  brought  enough  with  me  to  carry  me 
through  ;  and  all  I  should  get  at  his  school  would  be 
ascribed  to  my  own  labour,  or  to  my  former  master. 
Yet  he  taught  me  a  great  deal.' 

He  thus  discriminated  to  Dr.  Percy,  Bishop  of  Dro- 
more,  his  progress  at  his  two  grammar-schools.     '  At 


1  [Cornelius  Ford,  according  to  Sir  John  Hawkins,  was  his  cousin- 
german,  being  the  son  of  Dr.  Joseph  Ford,  an  eminent  physician,  who 
was  brother  to  Johnson's  mother. — M.] 

2  He  is  said  to  be  the  original  of  the  parson  in  Hogarth's  Modern 
Midnight  Conversation, 


^T.  i6]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  25 

one,  I  learned  mucli  in  the  school,  but  little  from  the 
master  ;  in  the  other,  I  learned  much  from  the  master, 
but  little  in  the  school. ' 

The  bishop  also  informs  me  that  '  Dr.  Johnson's 
father,  before  he  was  received  at  Stourbridge,  applied 
to  have  him  admitted  as  a  scholar  and  assistant  to  the 
Rev.  Samuel  Lea,  M.  A.,  head-master  of  Newport  school, 
in  Shropshire  (a  very  diligent  good  teacher,  at  that 
time  in  high  reputation,  under  whom  Mr.  Hollis  is 
said,  in  the  Memoirs  of  his  Life,  to  have  been  also 
educated).^  This  application  to  Mr.  Lea  was  not 
successful ;  but  Johnson  had  afterwards  the  gratifica- 
tion to  hear  that  the  old  gentleman,  who  lived  to  a 
very  advanced  age,  mentioned  it  as  one  of  the  most 
memorable  events  of  his  life,  that  '  he  was  very  near 
having  that  great  man  for  his  scholar. ' 

He  remained  at  Stourbridge  little  more  than  a  year, 
and  then  he  returned  home,  where  he  may  be  said  to 
have  loitered,  for  two  years,  in  a  state  very  unworthy 
his  uncommon  abilities.  He  had  already  given  several 
proofs  of  his  poetical  genius,  both  in  his  school  exer- 
cises and  in  other  occasional  compositions.  Of  these 
I  have  obtained  a  considerable  collection,  by  the 
favour  of  Mr.  Wentworth,  son  of  one  of  his  masters, 
and  of  Mr.  Hector,  his  schoolfellow  and  friend,  from 
which  I  select  the  following  specimens  : 

Translation  of  Virgil.     Pastoral  i. 

MELIBCBUS 

Now,  Tityrus,  you,  supine  and  careless  laid, 
Play  on  your  pipe  beneath  this  beechen  shade ; 


J  As  was  likewise  the  Bishop  of  Dromore  many  years  afterwards. 


LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON 

While  wretched  we  about  the  world  must  roam. 
And  leave  our  pleasing  fields  and  native  home, 
Here  at  your  ease  you  sing  your  amorous  flame, 
And  the  wood  rings  with  Amarillis'  name. 

TITYRUS 

Those  blessings,  friend,  a  deity  bestow'd, 
For  I  shall  never  think  him  less  than  god : 
Oft  on  his  altar  shall  my  firstlings  lie, 
Their  blood  the  consecrated  stones  shall  dye : 
He  gave  my  flocks  to  graze  the  flowery  meads. 
And  me  to  tune  at  ease  th'  unequal  reeds. 

MELIBCEUS 

My  admiration  only  I  exprest 
(No  spark  of  envy  harbours  in  my  breast). 
That,  when  confusion  o'er  the  country  reigns, 
To  you  alone  this  happy  state  remains. 
Here  I,  though  faint  myself,  must  drive  my  goats. 
Far  from  their  ancient  fields  and  humble  cots. 
This  scarce  I  lead,  who  left  on  yonder  rock 
Two  tender  kids,  the  hopes  of  aU  the  flock. 
Had  we  not  been  perverse  and  careless  grown. 
This  dire  event  by  omens  was  foreshown ; 
Our  trees  were  blasted  by  the  thunder  stroke. 
And  left-hand  crows,  from  an  old  hollow  oak, 
Foretold  the  coming  evil  by  their  dismal  croak. 

Translation  of  Horace.     Book  i.  Ode  xxii. 

The  man,  my  friend,  whose  conscious  heart 
With  virtue's  sacred  ardour  glows, 

Nor  taints  with  death  the  envenom'd  dart. 
Nor  needs  the  guard  of  Moorish  bows : 

Though  Scythia's  icy  clifiEs  he  treads, 

Or  horrid  Af rio's  faithless  sands  ; 
Or  where  the  famed  Hydaspes  spreads 

His  liquid  wealth  o'er  barbarous  landa. 

For  while  by  Chloe's  image  charm'd, 
Too  far  in  Sabine  woods  I  stray'd ; 

Me  singing,  careless  and  unarm'd, 
A  grisly  wolf  surprised,  and  fled. 


LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  27 

No  savage  more  portentous  stain'd 

Apulia's  spacious  wilds  with  gore ; 
No  fiercer  Juba's  thirsty  land, 

Dire  nurse  of  raging  lions,  bore. 

Place  me  where  no  soft  summer  gale 

Among  the  quivering  branches  sighs ; 
Where  clouds  condensed  for  ever  veil 

With  horrid  gloom  the  frowning  skies ; 

Place  me  beneath  the  burning  line, 

A  clime  denied  to  human  race ; 
I  '11  sing  of  Chloe's  charms  divine, 

Her  heavenly  voice,  and  beauteous  face. 


Translation  of  Horace.     Book  ii.  Ode  uc 

Clouds  do  not  always  veil  the  skies. 
Nor  showers  immerse  the  verdant  plain ; 

Nor  do  the  billows  always  rise, 
Or  storms  afflict  the  ruffled  main : 

Nor,  Valgius,  on  th'  Armenian  shores 
Do  the  chain'd  waters  always  freeze ; 

Not  always  furious  Boreas  roars, 

Or  bends  with  violent  force  the  trees. 

But  you  are  ever  drown'd  in  tears. 
For  Mystes  dead  you  ever  mourn ; 

No  setting  Sol  can  ease  yovir  cares. 
But  finds  you  sad  at  his  return. 

The  wise  experienced  Grecian  sage 
Moum'd  not  Antilochus  so  long ; 

Nor  did  King  Priam's  hoary  age 
So  much  lament  his  slaughter'd  son. 

Leave  ofiF,  at  length,  these  woman's  sighs  ; 

Augustus'  numerous  trophies  sing ; 
Hepeat  that  prince's  victories. 

To  whom  aU  nations  tribute  bring. 


28  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON 

Niphates  rolls  an  humbler  wave ; 

At  length  the  undaunted  Scythian  yields. 
Content  to  live  the  Romans'  slave, 

And  scarce  forsakes  his  native  fields. 


Translation  of  part  of  the  Dialogue  between 

Hector  and  Andromache  ;  from  the  Sixth 

Book  of  Homer's  Iliad 

She  ceased ;  then  godlike  Hector  answer'd  kind 

(His  various  plumage  sporting  in  the  wind), 

That  post,  and  all  the  rest,  shall  be  my  care ; 

But  shall  I,  then,  forsake  the  unfinish'd  war  ? 

How  would  the  Trojans  brand  great  Hector's  name  I 

And  one  base  action  sully  all  my  fame. 

Acquired  by  wounds  and  battles  bravely  fought ! 

O,  how  my  soul  abhors  so  mean  a  thought ! 

Long  since  I  leam'd  to  slight  his  fleeting  breath, 

And  view  with  cheerful  eyes  approaching  death. 

The  inexorable  sisters  have  decreed 

That  Priam's  house,  and  Priam's  self  shall  bleed : 

The  day  wiU  come,  in  which  proud  Troy  shall  yield. 

And  spread  its  smoking  ruins  o'er  the  field. 

Yet  Hecuba's,  nor  Priam's  hoary  age, 

Whose  blood  shall  quench  some  Grecian's  thirsty  rage. 

Nor  my  brave  brothers,  that  have  bit  the  ground. 

Their  souls  dismiss'd  through  many  a  ghastly  wound. 

Can  in  my  bosom  half  that  grief  create, 

As  the  sad  thought  of  your  impending  fate : 

When  some  proud  Grecian  dame  shall  tasks  impose, 

Mimic  your  tears,  and  ridicule  your  woes ; 

Beneath  Hyperia's  waters  shall  you  sweat. 

And,  fainting,  scarce  support  the  liquid  weight : 

Then  shall  some  Argive  loud  insulting  cry, 

Behold  the  wife  of  Hector,  guard  of  Troy  ! 

Tears  at  my  name,  shall  drown  those  beauteous  eyes. 

And  that  fair  bosom  heave  with  rising  sighs  ! 

Before  that  day,  by  some  brave  hero's  hand 

May  I  lie  slain,  and  spurn  the  bloody  sand. 


LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  29 

To  a  Young  Lady  on  her  Birthday^ 

This  tributary  verse  receive,  my  fair, 

Warm  with  an  ardent  lover's  fondest  prayer. 

May  this  returning  day  for  ever  find 

Thy  form  more  lovely,  more  adorned  thy  mind ; 

All  pains,  all  cares,  may  favouring  Heaven  remove. 

All  but  the  sweet  solicitudes  of  love ! 

May  powerful  nature  join  with  grateful  art, 

To  point  each  glance,  and  force  it  to  the  heart ! 

O  then,  when  conquered  crowds  confess  thy  sway. 

When  ev'n  proud  wealth  and  prouder  wit  obey. 

My  fair,  be  mindful  of  the  mighty  trust : 

Alas !  'tis  hnrd  for  beauty  to  be  just. 

Those  sovereign  charms  with  strictest  care  employ. 

Nor  give  the  generous  pain,  the  worthless  joy : 

With  his  own  form  acquaint  the  forward  fool, 

Shown  in  the  faithful  glass  of  ridicule ; 

Teach  mimic  censure  her  own  faults  to  find. 

No  more  let  coquettes  to  themselves  be  blind. 

So  shall  Belinda's  charms  improve  mankind- 

The  Young  Author  ^ 

When  first  the  peasant,  long  inclined  to  roam. 
Forsakes  his  rural  sports  and  peaceful  home. 
Pleased  with  the  scene  the  smiling  ocean  yields. 
He  scorns  the  verdant  meads  and  flowery  fields ; 
Then  dances  jocund  o'er  the  watery  way, 
WhUe  the  breeze  whispers,  and  the  streamers  play : 
Unbounded  prospects  in  his  bosom  roll. 
And  future  millions  lift  his  rising  soul ; 
In  blissful  dreams  he  digs  the  golden  mine. 
And  raptured  sees  the  new-found  ruby  shine, 
Joys  insincere  !  thick  clouds  invade  the  skies, 
Loud  roar  the  billows,  high  the  waves  arise : 


1  Mr.  Hector  informs  me  that  this  was  made  almost  impromptu  in 
his  presence. 

2  This    he  inserted,    with    many   aherations,    in  the  Gentleman's 
Magazine,  1743. 


30  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON 

Sick'ning  with  fear,  he  longs  to  view  the  shore. 

And  vows  to  trust  the  faithless  deep  no  more. 

So  the  young  Author,  panting  after  fame. 

And  the  long  honours  of  a  lasting  name. 

Intrusts  his  happiness  to  human  kind, 

More  false,  more  cruel,  than  the  seas  or  wind. 

'Toil  on,  dull  crowd,'  in  ecstasies  he  cries, 

'  For  wealth  or  title,  perishable  prize ; 

WhUe  I  those  transitory  blessings  scorn. 

Secure  of  praise  from  ages  yet  unborn.' 

This  thought  once  form'd,  all  counsel  comes  too  late, 

He  flies  to  press,  and  hurries  on  his  fate ; 

Swiftly  he  sees  the  imagined  laurels  spread. 

And  feels  the  unfading  wreath  surround  his  head. 

"Wam'd  by  another's  fate,  vain  youth,  be  wise ; 

Those  dreams  were  Settle's  once,  and  Ogilby's : 

The  pamphlet  spreads,  incessant  hisses  rise. 

To  some  retreat  the  baffled  writer  flies ; 

Where  no  sour  critics  snarl,  no  sneers  molest. 

Safe  from  the  tart  lampoon  and  stinging  jest : 

There  begs  of  Heaven  a  less  distinguish'd  lot, 

Glad  to  be  hid,  and  proud  to  be  forgot. 

Epilogue,  intended  to  have  been  spoken  by  a  Lady 
who  was  to  personate  the  Ghost  of  Hermione  ^ 

Ye  blooming  train,  who  give  despair  or  joy. 
Bless  with  a  smile,  or  with  a  frown  destroy ; 
In  whose  fair  cheeks  destructive  Cupids  wait. 
And  with  unerring  shafts  distribute  fate ; 
Whose  snowy  breasts,  whose  animated  eyes. 
Each  youth  admires,  though  each  admirer  dies ; 
Whilst  you  deride  their  pangs  in  barb'rous  play, 
Unpitying  see  them  weep,  and  hear  them  pray. 
And  unrelenting  sport  ten  thousand  lives  away ; 
For  you,  ye  fair,  I  quit  the  gloomy  plains. 
Where  sable  night  in  all  her  horror  reigns ; 


1  Some  young  ladies  at  Lichfield  having  proposed  to  act  The 
Distressed  Mother,  Johnson  wrote  this,  and  gave  it  to  Mr.  Hector  to 
convey  it  privately  to  them. 


LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  31 

No  fragrant  bowers,  no  delightful  glades, 
Receive  the  unhappy  ghosts  of  scornful  maids. 
For  kind,  for  tender  nymphs,  the  myrtle  blooms. 
And  weaves  her  bending  boughs  in  pleasing  glooms ; 
Perennial  roses  deck  each  purple  vale. 
And  scents  ambrosial  breath  in  every  gale : 
Far  hence  are  banish'd  vapours,  spleen,  and  tears, 
Tea,  scandal,  ivory  teeth,  and  languid  airs : 
No  pug,  nor  favourite  Cupid  there  enjoys 
The  balmy  kiss,  for  which  poor  Thyrsis  dies ; 
Form'd  to  delight,  they  use  no  foreign  arms. 
No  torturing  whalebones  pinch  them  into  charms ; 
No  conscious  blushes  there  their  cheeks  inflame. 
For  those  who  feel  no  guilt  can  know  no  shame ; 
Unfaded  still  their  former  charms  they  show. 
Around  them  pleasures  wait,  and  joys  for  ever  new. 
But  cruel  virgins  meet  severer  fates ; 
Expell'd  and  exiled  from  the  blissful  seats, 
To  dismal  realms,  and  regions  void  of  peace. 
Where  furies  ever  howl,  and  serpents  hiss. 
'  O'er  the  sad  plains  perpetual  tempests  sigh, 

And  poisonous  vapours,  black'ning  all  the  sky. 

With  livid  hue  the  fairest  face  o'ercast, 

And  every  beauty  withers  at  the  blast : 

Where'er  they  fly  their  lovers'  ghosts  pursue, 

Inflicting  all  those  ills  which  once  they  knew ; 

Vexation,  Fury,  Jealousy,  Despair, 

Vex  every  eye,  and  every  bosom  tear ; 

Their  foul  deformities  by  all  descried. 

No  maid  to  flatter,  and  no  paint  to  hide. 

Then  melt,  ye  fair,  while  crowds  aroimd  you  sigh. 

Nor  let  disdain  sit  lowering  in  your  eye ; 

With  pity  soften  every  awful  grace. 

And  beauty  smile  auspicious  in  each  face ; 

To  ease  their  pains  exert  your  milder  power. 

So  shall  you  guiltless  reign,  and  all  mankind  adore. 

The  two  years  which  he  spent  at  home,  after  his 
return  from  Stourbridge,  he  passed  in  what  he  thought 
idleness,  and  was  scolded  by  his  father  for  his  want  of 


32  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1728 

steady  application.  He  had  no  settled  plan  of  life, 
nor  looked  forward  at  all,  but  merely  lived  from  day 
to  day.  Yet  he  read  a  great  deal  in  a  desultory 
manner,  without  any  scheme  of  study,  as  chance 
threw  books  in  his  way,  and  inclination  directed  him 
through  them.  He  used  to  mention  one  curious  in- 
stance of  his  casual  reading,  when  but  a  boy.  Having 
imagined  that  his  brother  had  hid  some  apples  behind 
a  large  folio  upon  an  upper  shelf  in  his  father's  shop, 
he  climbed  up  to  search  for  them.  There  were  no 
apples ;  but  the  large  folio  proved  to  be  Petrarch, 
whom  he  had  seen  mentioned,  in  some  preface,  as  one 
of  the  restorers  of  learning.  His  curiosity  having 
been  thus  excited,  he  sat  down  with  avidity,  and  read 
a  great  part  of  the  book.  What  he  read  during  these 
two  years,  he  told  me,  was  not  works  of  mere  amuse- 
ment, '  not  voyages  and  travels,  but  all  literature,  sir, 
all  ancient  writers,  all  manly :  though  but  little 
Greek,  only  some  of  Anacreon  and  Hesiod :  but  in 
this  irregular  manner  (added  he)  I  had  looked  into  a 
great  many  books,  which  were  not  commonly  known 
at  the  Universities,  where  they  seldom  read  any  books 
but  what  are  put  into  their  hands  by  their  tutors,  so 
that  when  I  came  to  Oxford,  Dr.  Adams,  now  master 
of  Pembroke  College,  told  me,  I  was  the  best  qualified 
for  the  University  that  he  had  ever  known  come  there.' 
In  estimating  the  progress  of  his  mind  during  these 
two  years,  as  well  as  in  future  periods  of  his  life,  we 
must  not  regard  his  own  hasty  confession  of  idleness : 
for  we  see,  when  he  explains  himself,  that  he  was  ac- 
quiring various  stores ;  and  indeed  he  himself  con- 
cluded the  account  with  saying,  'I  would  not  have 
you  think  I  was  doing  nothing  then.'     He  might, 


^T.  19]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  33 

perhaps,  have  studied  more  assiduously ;  but  it  may 
be  doubted,  whether  such  a  mind  as  his  was  not  more 
enriched  by  roaming  at  large  in  the  fields  of  litera- 
ture than  if  it  had  been  confined  to  any  single  spot. 
The  analogy  between  body  and  mind  is  very  general, 
and  the  parallel  will  hold  as  to  their  food,  as  well  as 
any  other  particular.  The  flesh  of  animals  who  feed 
excursively  is  allowed  to  have  a  higher  flavour  than 
that  of  those  who  are  cooped  up.  May  there  not  be 
the  same  difference  between  men  who  read  as  their 
taste  prompts,  and  men  who  are  confined  in  cells  and 
colleges  to  stated  tasks .'' 

That  a  man  in  Mr.  Michael  Johnson's  circum- 
stances should  think  of  sending  his  son  to  the  ex- 
pensive University  of  Oxford,  at  his  own  charge,  seems 
very  improbable.  The  subject  was  too  delicate  to 
question  Johnson  upon ;  but  I  have  been  assured  by 
Dr.  Taylor,  that  the  scheme  never  would  have  taken 
place,  had  not  a  gentleman  of  Shropshire,  one  of  his 
schoolfellows,  spontaneously  undertaken  to  support 
him  at  Oxford,  in  the  character  of  his  companion  : 
though,  in  fact,  he  never  received  any  assistance 
whatever  from  that  gentleman. 

He,  however,  went  to  Oxford,  and  was  entered  a 
commoner  of  Pembroke  College,  on  the  31st  of 
October  1728,  being  then  in  his  nineteenth  year. 

The  Reverend  Dr.  Adams,  who  afterwards  presided 
over  Pembroke  College  with  universal  esteem,  told 
me  he  was  present,  and  gave  me  some  account  of 
what  passed  on  the  night  of  Johnson's  arrival  at  Ox- 
ford. On  that  evening,  his  father,  who  had  anxiously 
accompanied  him,  found  means  to  have  him  introduced 
to  Mr.  Jorden,  who  was  to  be  his  tutor.     His  being^ 

VOL.  I.  c 


S4  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1728 

put  under  any  tutor,  reminds  us  of  what  Wood  says 
of  Robert  Burton,  author  of  the  Anatomy  of  Melan- 
choly, when  elected  student  of  Christ  Church ;  '  for 
form's  sake,  though  he  wanted  not  a  tutor,  he  was  put 
under  the  tuition  of  Dr.  John  Bancroft,  afterwards 
Bishop  of  Oxon.'  ^ 

His  father  seemed  very  full  of  the  merits  of  his  son, 
and  told  the  company  he  was  a  good  scholar,  and  a 
poet,  and  wrote  Latin  verses.  His  figure  and  manner 
appeared  strange  to  them  ;  but  he  behaved  modestly, 
and  sat  silent,  till  upon  something  which  occurred  in 
the  course  of  conversation,  he  suddenly  struck  in  and 
quoted  Macrobius ;  and  thus  he  gave  the  first  im- 
pression of  that  more  extensive  reading  in  which  he 
had  indulged  himself. 

His  tutor,  Mr.  Jorden,  fellow  of  Pembroke,  was 
not,  it  seems,  a  man  of  such  abilities  as  we  should 
conceive  requisite  for  the  instructor  of  Samuel  John- 
eon,  who  gave  me  the  following  account  of  him.  ^He 
was  a  very  worthy  man,  but  a  heavy  man,  and  I  did 
not  profit  much  by  his  instructions.  Indeed,  I  did 
not  attend  him  much.  The  first  day  after  I  came  to 
College,  I  waited  upon  him,  and  then  stayed  away  four. 
On  the  sixth,  Mr.  Jorden  asked  me  why  I  had  not 
attended.  I  answered,  I  had  been  sliding  in  Christ 
Church  meadow :  and  this  I  said  with  as  much  non- 
chalance as  I  am  now  ^  talking  to  you.  I  had  no 
notion  that  I  was  wrong  or  irreverent  to  my  tutor. ' 
Boswell:  'That,  sir,  was  great  fortitude  of  mind.' 
Johnson  :  'No,  sir,  stark  insensibility. ' ^ 

1  Athen.  Oxon.  edit.  1721,  i.  627. 

2  Oxford,  20th  March  1776. 

_  8  It  ought  to  be  remembered,  that  Dr.  Johnson  was  apt,  in  his 
literary  as  well  as  moral  exercises,  to  overcharge  his  defects.      Dr. 


VET.  19]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  36 

The  5th  of  November  was  at  that  time  kept  with 
great  solemnity  at  Pembroke  College^  and  exercises 
upon  the  subject  of  the  day  were  required.  Johnson 
neglected  to  perform  his,  which  is  much  to  be  re- 
gretted ;  for  his  vivacity  of  imagination,  and  force  of 
language,  would  probably  have  produced  something 
sublime  upon  the  gunpowder  plot.  To  apologise  for 
his  neglect,  he  gave  in  a  short  copy  of  verses,  entitled 
Somnium,  containing  a  common  thought;  'that  the 
Muse  had  come  to  him  in  his  sleep,  and  whispered, 
that  it  did  not  become  him  to  write  on  such  subjects 
as  politics  ;  he  should  confine  himself  to  humbler 
themes ' :  but  the  versification  was  truly  Virgilian. 

He  had  a  love  and  respect  for  Jorden,  not  for  his 
literature,  but  for  his  worth.  'Whenever  (said  he) 
a  young  man  becomes  Jorden's  pupil,  he  becomes  his 
son.' 

Having  given  such  a  specimen  of  his  poetical 
powers,  he  was  asked  by  Mr.  Jorden  to  translate 
Pope's  Messiah  into  Latin  verse,  as  a  Christmas  exer- 
cise. He  performed  it  with  uncommon  rapidity,  and 
in  so  masterly  a  manner,  that  he  obtained  great 
applause  from  it,  which  ever  after  kept  him  high  in 
the  estimation  of  his  College,  and,  indeed,  of  all  the 
University. 

It  is  said  that  Mr.  Pope  expressed  himself  con- 
cerning it  in  terms  of  strong  approbation.  Dr.  Taylor 
told  me  that  it  was  first  printed  for  old  Mr.  Johnson, 
without  the  knowledge  of  his  son,  who  was  very  angry 
when  he  heard  of  it.  A  Miscellany  of  Poems,  collected 
by  a  person  of  the  name  of  Husbands,  was  published 

Adams  informed  me,  that  he  attended  his  tutor's  lecttires,  and  also  the 
lectures  in  the  College  Hall  very  regularly. 


36  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1729 

at  Oxford  in  1731.  In  that  Miscellany  Johnson's 
translation  of  the  Messiah  appeared,  with  this  modest 
motto  from  Scaliger's  Poetics  :  '  Ex  alieno  ingenio  poeta, 
ex  suo  tantum  versificator.' 

I  am  not  ignorant  that  critical  objections  have  been 
made  to  this  and  other  specimens  of  Johnson's  Latin 
poetry.  I  acknowledge  myself  not  competent  to  de- 
cide on  a  question  of  such  extreme  nicety.  But  I 
am  satisfied  with  the  just  and  discriminative  eulogy 
pronounced  upon  it  by  my  friend  Mr.  Courtenay : 

*  And  with  like  ease  his  vivid  lines  assume 
The  garb  of  dignity  of  ancient  Rome. — 
Let  college  verse-men  trite  conceits  express, 
Trick'd  out  in  splendid  shreds  of  Virgil's  dress  ; 
From  playful  Ovid  cull  the  tinsel  phi-ase, 
And  vapid  notions  hitch  in  pilf er'd  lays ;    . 
Then  with  mosaic  art  the  piece  combine, 
And  boast  the  glitter  of  each  dulcet  line ; 
Johnson  adventiired  boldly  to  transfuse 
His  vigorous  sense  into  the  Latin  Muse ; 
Aspired  to  shine  by  unreflected  light, 
And  with  a  Roman's  ardour  think  and  write ; 
He  felt  the  tuneful  Nine  his  breast  inspire. 
And,  like  a  master,  waked  the  soothing  lyre : 
Horatian  strains  a  grateful  heart  proclaim. 
While  Sky's  wild  rocks  resoimd  his  Thralia's  name.-^ 
Hosperia's  plant,  in  some  less  skilful  hands, 
To  bloom  a  while,  factitious  heat  demands : 
Though  glowing  Maro  a  faint  warmth  supplies, 
The  sickly  blossom  in  the  hot-house  dies : 
By  Johnson's  genial  culture,  art,  and  toil. 
Its  root  strikes  deep,  and  owns  the  fost'ring  soil ; 
Imbibes  our  siui  through  all  its  swelling  veins, 
And  grows  a  native  of  Britannia's  plains.'  ^ 


1  Poetical  Review  of  the  Literary  and  Moral  Character  of  Dr. 
Johnson,  by  John  Courtenay,  Esq.,  M.P. 


^T.  2o]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  37 

The  '  morbid  melancholy '  which  was  lurking  in  his 
constitution,  and  to  which  we  may  ascribe  those 
particularities  and  that  aversion  to  regular  life  which 
at  a  very  early  period  marked  his  character,  gathered 
such  strength  in  his  twentieth  year  as  to  afflict  him  in 
a  dreadful  manner.  While  he  was  at  Lichfield,  in 
the  college  vacation  of  the  year  1729,  he  felt  himself 
overwhelmed  with  a  horrible  hypochondria,  with  per- 
petual irritation,  fretfulness,  and  impatience,  and 
with  a  dejection,  gloom,  and  despair  which  made 
existence  misery.  From  this  dismal  malady  he  never 
afterwards  was  perfectly  relieved,  and  all  his  labours 
and  all  his  enjoyments  were  but  temporary  inter- 
ruptions of  its  baleful  influence.  How  wonderful, 
how  unsearchable  are  the  ways  of  God  !  Johnson, 
who  was  blessed  with  all  the  powers  of  genius  and 
understanding  in  a  degree  far  above  the  ordinary  state 
of  human  nature,  was  at  the  same  time  visited  with  a 
disorder  so  afflictive  that  they  who  know  it  by  dire 
experience  will  not  envy  his  exalted  endowments. 
That  it  was  in  some  degree  occasioned  by  a  defect  in 
his  nervous  system,  that  inexplicable  part  of  our 
frame,  appears  highly  probable.  He  told  Mr.  Para- 
dise that  he  was  sometimes  so  languid  and  inefficient 
that  he  could  not  distinguish  the  hour  upon  the  town- 
clock. 

Johnson,  upon  the  first  violent  attack  of  this  dis- 
order, strove  to  overcome  it  by  forcible  exertions. 
He  frequently  walked  to  Birmingham  and  back  again, 
and  tried  many  other  expedients,  but  all  in  vain. 
His  expression  concerning  it  to  me  was,  'I  did  not 
then  know  how  to  manage  it.'  His  distress  became 
so  intolerable  that  he  applied  to  Dr.  Swinfen,  physi- 


38  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1729 

cian  in  Lichfield,  his  godfather,  and  put  into  his 
hands  a  state  of  his  case,  written  in  Latin.  Dr. 
Swinfen  was  so  much  struck  with  the  extraordinary 
acuteness,  research,  and  eloquence  of  this  paper,  that, 
in  his  zeal  for  his  godson,  he  showed  it  to  several 
people.  His  daughter,  Mrs.  Desmoulins,  who  was 
many  years  humanely  supported  in  Dr.  Johnson's 
house  in  London,  told  me  that  upon  his  discovering 
that  Dr.  Swinfen  had  communicated  his  case,  he  was 
80  much  offended  that  he  was  never  afterwards  fully 
reconciled  to  him.  He  indeed  had  good  reason  to  be 
offended,  for  though  Dr.  Swinfen's  motive  was  good, 
he  inconsiderately  betrayed  a  matter  deeply  interesting 
and  of  great  delicacy  which  had  been  intrusted  to  him 
in  confidence,  and  exposed  a  complaint  of  his  young 
friend  and  patient  which,  in  the  superficial  opinion  of 
the  generality  of  mankind,  is  attended  with  contempt 
and  disgrace. 

But  let  not  little  men  triumph  upon  knowing  that 
Johnson  was  an  hypochondriac,  was  subject  to  what 
the  learned,  philosophical,  and  pious  Dr.  Cheyne  has 
so  well  treated  under  the  title  of  'The  English 
Malady.'  Though  he  suffered  severely  from  it,  he 
was  not  therefore  degraded.  The  powers  of  his  great 
mind  might  be  troubled,  and  their  full  exercise  sus- 
pended at  times,  but  the  mind  itself  was  ever  entire. 
As  a  proof  of  this  it  is  only  necessary  to  consider  that, 
when  he  was  at  the  very  worst  he  composed  that  state 
of  his  own  case,  which  showed  an  uncommon  vigour, 
not  only  of  fancy  and  taste,  but  of  judgment.  I  am 
aware  that  he  himself  was  too  ready  to  call  such  a 
complaint  by  the  name  of  madness ;  in  conformity 
with  which  notion  he  has  traced  its  gradations,  with 


iET.  2o]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  3& 

exquisite  nicety,  in  one  of  the  chapters  of  his  Rasselas. 
But  there  is  surely  a  clear  distinction  between  a  dis- 
order which  afifects  only  the  imagination  and  spirits, 
while  the  judgment  is  sound,  and  a  disorder  by  which 
the  judgment  itself  is  impaired.  This  distinction  was 
made  to  me  by  the  late  Professor  Gaubius  of  Leyden, 
physician  to  the  Prince  of  Orange,  in  a  conversation 
which  I  had  with  him  several  years  ago ;  and  he  ex- 
pounded it  thus  :  '  If  (said  he)  a  man  tells  me  that  he 
is  grievously  disturbed,  for  that  he  imagines  he  sees  a 
ruffian  coming  against  him  with  a  drawn  sword, 
though  at  the  same  time  he  is  conscious  it  is  a  de- 
lusion, I  pronounce  him  to  have  a  disordered  imagina- 
tion, but  if  a  man  tells  me  that  he  sees  this,  and  in 
consternation  calls  me  to  look  at  it,  I  pronounce  him 
to  be  mad.' 

It  is  a  common  effect  of  low  spirits  or  melancholy 
to  make  those  who  are  afflicted  with  it  imagine  that 
they  are  actually  suffering  those  evils  which  happen  to 
be  most  strongly  presented  to  their  minds.  Some 
have  fancied  themselves  to  be  deprived  of  the  use 
of  their  limbs,  some  to  labour  under  acute  diseases, 
others  to  be  in  extreme  poverty,  when,  in  truth,  there 
was  not  the  least  reality  in  any  of  the  suppositions, 
80  that  when  the  vapours  were  dispelled  they  were 
convinced  of  the  delusion.  To  Johnson,  whose  su- 
preme enjoyment  was  the  exercise  of  his  reason,  the 
disturbance  or  obscuration  of  that  faculty  was  the  evil 
most  to  be  dreaded.  Insanity,  therefore,  was  the 
object  of  his  most  dismal  apprehension,  and  he  fancied 
himself  seized  by  it  or  approaching  to  it  at  the  very 
time  when  he  was  giving  proofs  of  a  more  than 
ordinary  soundness  and  vigour  of  judgment.     That 


40  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1729 

his  own  diseased  imagination  should  have  so  far  de- 
ceived him  is  strange,  but  it  is  stranger  still  that  some 
of  his  friends  should  have  given  credit  to  his  ground- 
less opinion  when  they  had  such  undoubted  proofs 
that  it  was  totally  fellacious,  though  it  is  by  no  means 
surprising  that  those  who  wish  to  depreciate  him 
should,  since  his  death,  have  laid  hold  of  this  cir- 
cumstance and  insisted  upon  it  with  very  unfair 
aggravation. 

Amidst  the  oppression  and  distraction  of  a  disease 
which  very  few  have  felt  in  its  full  extent,  but  many 
have  experienced  in  a  slighter  degree,  Johnson  in  his 
writings  and  in  his  conversation  never  failed  to  display 
all  the  varieties  of  intellectual  excellence.  In  his 
march  through  this  world  to  a  better,  his  mind  stiQ 
appeared  grand  and  brilliant,  and  impressed  all  around 
him  with  the  truth  of  Virgil's  noble  sentiment — 

'  Ignens  est  ollis  vigor,  et  ooelestis  origo.' — JEn.  vi.  730. 

The  history  of  his  mind  as  to  religion  is  an  im- 
portant article.  I  have  mentioned  the  early  impres- 
sions made  upon  his  tender  imagination  by  his  mother, 
who  continued  her  pious  cares  with  assiduity,  but,  in 
his  opinion,  not  with  judgment.  'Sunday  (said  he) 
was  a  hea\-y  day  with  me  when  I  was  a  boy.  My 
mother  confined  me  on  that  day,  and  made  me  read 
The  Whole  Duty  of  Man,  from  a  great  part  of  which  I 
conld  derive  no  instruction.  >Vhen,  for  instance,  I 
had  read  the  chapter  on  theft,  which  from  my  infancy 
I  had  been  taught  was  wrong,  I  was  no  more  convinced 
that  theft  was  wrong  than  before,  so  there  was  no 
accession  of  knowledge.  A  boy  should  be  introduced 
to  such  books  by  having  his  attention  directed  to  the 


^T.  2o]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  41 

arrangement,  to  the  style,  and  other  excellences  of 
composition,  that  the  mind  being  thus  engaged  by  an 
amusing  variety  of  objects  may  not  grow  weary.' 

He  communicated  to  me  the  following  particulars 
upon  the  subject  of  his  religious  progress.  '  I  fell  into 
an  inattention  to  religion,  or  an  indifference  about  it, 
in  my  ninth  year.  The  church  at  Lichfield,  in  which 
we  had  a  seat,  wanted  reparation,  so  I  was  to  go 
and  find  a  seat  in  other  churches ;  and  having  bad 
eyes,  and  being  awkward  about  this,  I  used  to  go  and 
read  in  the  fields  on  Sunday.  This  habit  continued 
till  my  fourteenth  year,  and  still  I  find  a  great  reluct- 
ance to  go  to  church.  I  then  became  a  sort  of  lax 
talker  against  religion,  for  I  did  not  much  think  against 
it,  and  this  lasted  till  I  went  to  Oxford,  where  it 
would  not  be  suffered.  When  at  Oxford  I  took  up 
Law's  Serious  Call  to  a  Eoly  Life,  expecting  to  find  it  a 
dull  book  (as  such  books  generally  are),  and  perhaps 
to  laugh  at  it.  But  I  found  Law  quite  an  overmatch 
for  me,  and  this  was  the  first  occasion  of  my  thinking 
in  earnest  of  religion  after  I  became  capable  of  rational 
inquiry.'^ 


1  Mrs.  Piozzi  has  given  a  strange  fantastical  acconnt  of  the  original 
of  Dr.  Johnson's  belief  in  our  most  holy  religion.  '  At  the  age  ca  ttM 
years  his  mind  was  disturbed  by  scruples  of  infidelity,  which  pireyed 
upon  his  spirits  and  made  him  very  uneasy,  the  more  so  as  he  reii-ealed 
his  uneasiness  to  none,  being  naturally,  as  he  said,  of  a  sullen  temper 
and  reserved  disposition.  He  searched,  however,  diligently  but  fruit- 
lessly  for  evidences  of  the  truth  of  revelation,  and  at  length  rtcolUcting^ 
book  he  had  once  seen  [/  lu^se  at ^ve  years  old\  in  his  father's  shop, 
entitled,  De  Veritaie  Religionis,  etc.,  he  began  to  think  himself  A^fA/f 
c-ulpable  for  neglecting  such  a  means  of  information,  and  took  himself 
severely  to  task  for  this  sin,  adding  many  acts  of  voluntary  and,  to  others, 
imknown  penance.  The  first  opportvmity  which  ofiered,  of  course,  he 
seized  the  book  with  avidity,  but,  on  examination,  not  finding  himself 
scholar  enough  to  peruse  its  contents,  set  his  heart  at  rest,  and  not 
thinking  to  inquire  whether  there  were  any  English  books  written  on 
the  subject,  followed  his  usual  amusements,  and  considered  his  con^ 
science  as  lightened  of  a  crime.    Ue  redoubled  bis  diligence  to  leam 


42  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1729 

From  this  time  forward  religion  was  the  predominant 
object  of  his  thoughts,  though,  with  the  just  sentiments 
of  a  conscientious  Christian,  he  lamented  that  his 
practice  of  its  duties  fell  far  short  of  what  it  ought 
to  be. 

This  instance  of  a  mind  such  as  that  of  Johnson 
being  first  disposed,  by  an  unexpected  incident,  to 
think  with  anxiety  of  the  momentous  concerns  of 
eternity  and  of  'what  he  should  do  tobe  saved,'  may 
for  ever  be  produced  in  opposition  to  the  superficial 
and  sometimes  profane  contempt  that  has  been  throMm 
upon  those  occasional  impressions  which  it  is  certain 
many  Christians  have  experienced,  though  it  must  be 
acknowledged  that  weak  minds,  from  an  erroneous 
supposition  that  no  man  is  in  a  state  of  grace  who  has 
not  felt  a  particular  conversion,  have,  in  some  cases, 
brought  a  degree  of  ridicule  upon  them — a  ridicule  of 
which  it  is  inconsiderate  or  unfair  to  make  a  general 
application. 

How  seriously  Johnson  was  impressed  with  a  sense 
of  religion,  even  in  the  vigour  of  his  youth,  appears 
from  the  following  passage  in  his  minutes,  kept  by  way 
of  diary  :  '  Sept.  7, 1736.  I  have  this  day  entered  upon 
my  twenty-eighth  year.     Mayest  thou,  O  God,  enable 

the  language  that  contained  the  information  he  most  wished  for,  hut 
from  the  pain  which  guilt  [natnely,  having  omitted  to  read  what  he 
did  not  understand]  had  given  him,  he  now  began  to  deduce  the  soul's 
immortality  [a  sensation  o/iain  in  this  world  being  an  unquestionable 
proof  0/  existence  in  another],  which  was  the  point  that  belief  first 
stopped  at,  and  from  that  moment  resolving  to  be  a  Christian, 
became  one  of  the  most  zealous  and  pious  ones  our  nation  ever  pro- 
duced.'— Anecdotes. 

This  is  one  of  the  numerous  misrejjresentations  of  this_  lively  lady 
which  it  is  worth  while  to  correct ;  for  if  credit  should  be  given  to  such 
a  childish,  irrational,  and  ridiculous  statement  of  the  foundation  of  Dr. 
Johnson's  faith  in  Christianity,  how  little  credit  would  be  due  to  it  1 
Mrs.  Piozzi  seems  to  wish  that  the  world  should  think  Dr.  Johnson  also 
under  the  influence  of  that  easy  logic,  Stetpro  ratione  voluntas. 


^T.  2o]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  43 

me,  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake,  to  spend  this  in  such  a 
manner  that  I  may  receive  comfort  from  it  at  the 
hour  of  death  and  in  the  day  of  judgment !    Amen.' 

The  particular  course  of  his  reading  while  at  Oxford 
and  during  the  time  of  vacation  which  he  passed  at 
home  cannot  be  traced.  Enough  has  been  said  of  his 
irregular  mode  of  study.  He  told  me  that  from  his 
earliest  years  he  loved  to  read  poetry,  but  hardly  ever 
read  any  poem  to  an  end ;  that  he  read  Shakespeare 
at  a  period  so  early  that  the  speech  of  the  Ghost  in 
Hamlet  terrified  him  when  he  was  alone ;  that  Horace's 
Odes  were  the  compositions  in  which  he  took  most 
delight,  and  it  was  long  before  he  liked  his  Epistles 
and  Satires.  He  told  me  what  he  read  solidly  at 
Oxford  was  Greek — not  the  Grecian  historians,  but 
Homer  and  Euripides,  and  now  and  then  a  little 
.Epigram ;  that  the  study  of  which  he  was  the  most 
fond  was  Metaphysics,  but  he  had  not  read  much 
even  in  that  way.  I  always  thought  that  he  did  himself 
injustice  in  his  account  of  what  he  had  read,  and  that 
he  must  have  been  speaking  with  reference  to  the  vast 
portion  of  study  which  is  possible,  and  to  which  few 
scholars  in  the  whole  history  of  literature  have  at- 
tained ;  for  when  I  once  asked  him  whether  a  person 
whose  name  1  have  now  forgotten  studied  hard,  he 
answered,  '  No,  sir ;  I  do  not  believe  he  studied  hard. 
I  never  knew  a  man  who  studied  hard.  I  conclude, 
indeed,  from  the  effects  that  some  men  have  studied 
hard,  as  Bentley  and  Clarke.'  Trying  him  by  that 
criterion  upon  which  he  formed  his  judgment  of  others, 
we  may  be  absolutely  certain,  both  from  his  writings 
and  his  conversation,  that  his  reading  was  very  ex- 
tensive.   Dr.  Adam  Smith,  than  whom  few  were  better 


44  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1729 

judges  on  this  subject,  once  observed  to  me  that 
'Johnson  knew  more  books  than  any  man  alive.' 
He  had  a  peculiar  facility  in  seizing  at  once  what  was 
valuable  in  any  book  without  submitting  to  the  labour 
of  perusing  it  from  beginning  to  end.  He  had,  from 
the  irritability  of  his  constitution  at  all  times,  an 
impatience  and  hurry  when  he  either  read  or  wrote. 
A  certain  apprehension  arising  from  novelty  made 
him  write  his  first  exercise  at  College  twice  over,  but 
he  never  took  that  trouble  with  any  other  composition, 
and  we  shall  see  that  his  most  excellent  works  were 
struck  off  at  a  heat,  with  rapid  exertion.  ^ 

Yet  he  appears,  from  his  early  notes  or  memoran- 
dums in  my  possession,  to  have  at  various  times  at- 
tempted, or  at  least  planned,  a  methodical  course  of 
study,  according  to  computation,  of  which  he  was  all 
his  life  fond,  as  it  fixed  his  attention  steadily  upon 
something  without,  and  prevented  his  mind  from 
preying  upon  itself.  Thus  I  find  in  his  handwriting 
the  number  of  lines  in  each  of  two  of  Euripides' 
Tragedies,  of  the  Georgics  of  Virgil,  of  the  first  six 
books  of  the  ^neid,  of  Horace's  Art  of  Poetry,  of 
three  of  the  books  of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses,  of  some 
parts  of  Theocritus,  and  of  the  tenth  Satire  of  Juvenal, 
and  a  table,  showing  at  the  rate  of  various  numbers  a 
day  (I  suppose  verses  to  be  read),  what  would  be  in 
each  case  the  total  amount  in  a  week,  month,  and  year. 

No  man  had  a  more  ardent  love  of  literature,  or  a 

1  [He  told  Dr.  Burney  that  he  never  wrote  any  of  his  works  that 
were  printed  twice  over.  Dr.  Burney's  wonder  at  seeing  several  pages 
of  his  Lives  of  the  Poets  in  manuscript,  with  scarce  a  blot  or  erasure, 
•drew  this  observation  from  him. — M.] 

['It  may  be  questioned  whether,  except  his  Bible,  he  ever  read  a  book 
•entirely  through.  Late  in  life,  if  any  man  praised  a  book  in  his  presence, 
iie  was  sure  to  ask,  "  Did  you  read  it  through  ?  "_  If  the  answer  was  in 
the  affirmative,  he  did  not  seem  willing  to  believe  it '  (Murphy). — A.  B.] 


>ET.  20]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  45 

higher  respect  for  it,  than  Johnson.  His  apartment 
in  Pembroke  College  was  that  upon  the  second  floor 
over  the  gateway.  The  enthusiast  of  learning  will 
ever  contemplate  it  with  veneration.  One  day  while 
he  was  sitting  in  it  quite  alone.  Dr.  Panting,  then 
master  of  the  college,  whom  he  called  '  a  fine  Jacobite 
fellow,'  overheard  him  uttering  this  soliloquy  in  his 
strong,  emphatic  voice :  '  Well,  I  have  a  mind  to  see 
what  is  done  in  other  places  of  learning.  I  '11  go  and 
visit  the  universities  abroad.  I'll  go  to  France  and 
Italy.  I  '11  go  to  Padua — and  I  '11  mind  my  business. 
for  an  Athenian  blockhead  is  the  worst  of  all 
blockheads.'^ 

Dr.  Adams  told  me  that  Johnson,  while  he  was 
at  Pembroke  College,  '  was  caressed  and  loved  by  all 
about  him,  was  a  gay  and  frolicsome  fellow,  and 
j^assed  there  the  happiest  part  of  his  life. '  But  this  i& 
a  striking  proof  of  the  fallacy  of  appearances,  and  how 
little  any  of  us  know  of  the  real  internal  state  even  of 
those  whom  we  see  most  frequently,  for  the  truth  is 
that  he  was  then  depressed  by  poverty  and  irritated  by 
disease.  When  I  mentioned  to  him  this  account  as 
given  me  by  Dr.  Adams  he  said,  '  Ah,  sir,  I  was  iliad 
and  violent.  It  was  bitterness  which  they  mistook  for 
frolic.  I  was  miserably  poor,  and  I  thought  to  fight 
my  way  by  my  literature  and  my  wit,  so  I  disregarded 
all  power  and  all  authority.' 

1 1  had  this  anecdote  from  Dr.  Adams,  and  Dr.  Johnson  confirmed  it, 
Bramston,  in  his  Man  of  Taste,  has  the  same  thought : 

'  Sure,  of  all  blockheads,  scholars  are  the  worst.' 

[Johnson's  meaning,  however,  is,  that  a  scholar  who  is  a  blockhead,, 
must  be  the  worst  of  all  blockheads,  because  he  is  without  excuse. 
But  Bramston,  in  the  assumed  character  of  an  ignorant  coxcomb,  main- 
tains that  all  scholars  are  blockheads  on  account  of  their  scholarship. 
— J.  BoswELL,  junior.] 


46  LIFE   OP   DR.    JOHNSON        [1730 

The  Bishop  of  Dromore  observes  in  a  letter  to  me : 

'  The  pleMnre  he  took  in  yexing  the  tutors  and  fellow*  ha« 
been  often  mentioned.  Bat  I  have  heard  him  lay,  what 
OQght  to  be  recorded  to  the  honour  of  the  present  veneiable 
maater  of  that  college,  the  Beverend  William  4 «<»»»■,  D.D., 
who  was  then  very  young,  and  one  of  the  junior  fellows ;  that 
the  mild  but  judicious  expoetulations  of  this  worthy  man, 
whose  virtue  awed  him  and  whose  learning  he  revered. 
Bade  him  really  ashamed  of  himself,  "though  I  fear  (said  he) 
I  was  too  proud  to  own  it." 

'  I  have  heard  from  some  of  his  contemporaries  that  he  was 
generally  seen  lounging  at  the  College  gate,  with  a  circle  of 
young  students  round  him,  whom  he  was  entertaining  with 
wit,  and  keeping  from  their  studies,  if  not  spiriting  them  up 
to  rebellion  against  the  College  discipline,  which  in  his  maturer 
years  he  so  much  extolled.' 

He  very  early  began  to  attempt  keeping  notes  or 
memorandums^  by  way  of  a  diary  of  his  life.  I  find, 
in  a  parcel  of  loose  leaves,  the  following  spirited  re- 
solution to  contend  against  his  natural  indolence : 
'  Oct.  1729.  Desidice  valedixi ;  tirenia  igtitu  cantibu* 
mrdam  posthac  aurem  obvermrut. — I  bid  farewell  to 
Sloth,  being  resolved  henceforth  not  to  listen  to  her 
siren  strains.'  I  have  also  in  my  possession  a  few 
leaves  of  another  Libellus,  or  little  book,  entitled 
Annales,  in  which  some  of  the  early  particulars  of  his 
history  are  registered  in  Latin. 

I  do  not  iind  that  he  formed  any  close  intimacies 
with  his  fellow-collegians.  But  Dr.  Adams  told  me  that 
he  contracted  a  love  and  regard  for  Pembroke  College, 
which  he  retained  to  the  last.  A  short  time  before  his 
death  he  sent  to  that  College  a  present  of  all  his  works, 
to  be  deposited  in  their  library ;  and  he  had  thoughts 
•of  leaving  to  it  his  house  at  Lichfield ;  but  his  friends 
who  were  about  him  very  properly  dissuaded  him 


/E.T.2I]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  47 

from  it,  and  he  bequeathed  it  to  some  poor  relations. 
He  took  a  pleasure  in  boasting  of  the  many  eminent 
men  who  had  been  educated  at  Pembroke.  In  this 
list  are  found  the  names  of  Mr.  Hawkins^  the  Poetry 
Professor,  Mr.  Shenstone,  Sir  William  Blackstone, 
and  others ;  ^  not  forgetting  the  celebrated  popular 
preacher,  Mr.  George  ^V^litefield,  of  whom,  though 
Dr.  Johnson  did  not  think  very  highly,  it  must  be 
acknowledged  that  his  eloquence  was  powerful,  his 
views  pious  and  charitable,  his  assiduity  almost  in- 
credible ;  and  that,  since  his  death,  the  integrity  of 
his  character  has  been  fully  vindicated.  Being  him- 
self a  poet,  Johnson  was  peculiarly  happy  in  mention- 
ing how  many  of  the  sons  of  Pembroke  were  poets ; 
adding,  with  a  smile  of  sportive  triumph,  '  Sir,  we  are 
a  nest  of  singing  birds.' 

He  was  not,  however,  blind  to  what  he  thought  the 
defects  of  his  own  College  :  and  I  have,  from  the  in- 
formation of  Dr.  Taylor,  a  very  strong  instance  of 
that  rigid  honesty  which  he  ever  inflexibly  preserved. 
Taylor  had  obtained  his  father's  consent  to  be  entered 
of  Pembroke,  that  he  might  be  with  his  schoolfellow 
Johnson,  with  whom,  though  some  years  older  than 
himself,  he  was  very  intimate.  This  would  have  been 
a  great  comfort  to  Johnson.  But  he  fairly  told  Taylor 
that  he  could  not,  in  conscience,  suffer  him  to  enter 
where  he  knew  he  could  not  have  an  able  tutor.  He 
then  made  inquiry  all  round  the  University,  and  having 
found  that  Mr.  Bateman,  of  Christ  Church,  was  the 
tutor  of  highest  reputation,  Taylor  was  entered  of  that 
College.     Mr.  Bateman 's  lectures  were  so  excellent. 


*  See  Nash's  History  0/ Worc€stershire,  vol.  i.  p.  529. 


48  XIFB   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1731 

that  Johnson  used  to  come  and  get  them  at  second- 
hand from  Taylor,  till  his  poverty  being  so  extreme, 
that  his  shoes  were  worn  out,  and  his  feet  appeared 
through  them,  he  saw  that  this  humiliating  circum- 
stance was  perceived  by  the  Christ  Church  men,  and 
he  came  no  more.  He  was  too  proud  to  accept  of 
money,  and  somebody  having  set  a  pair  of  new  shoes 
at  his  door,  he  threw  them  away  with  indignation. 
How  must  we  feel  when  we  read  such  an  anecdote  of 
Samuel  Johnson  ! 

His  spirited  refusal  of  an  eleemosynary  supply  of 
shoes  arose,  no  doubt,  from  a  proper  pride.  But, 
considering  his  ascetic  disposition  at  times,  as  acknow- 
ledged by  himself  in  his  Meditations,  and  the  exaggera- 
tions with  which  some  have  treated  the  peculiarities  of 
his  character,  I  should  not  wonder  to  hear  it  ascribed 
to  a  principle  of  superstitious  mortification ;  as  we 
are  told  by  Tursellinus,  in  his  Life  of  St.  Ignatius 
Loyola,  that  this  intrepid  founder  of  the  order  of 
Jesuits,  when  he  arrived  at  Goa,  after  having  made  a 
severe  pilgrimage  through  the  eastern  deserts,  persisted 
in  wearing  his  miserable  shattered  shoes,  and  when 
new  ones  were  offered  him,  rejected  them  as  an  un- 
suitable indulgence. 

The  res  angusta  domi  prevented  him  from  having 
the  advantage  of  a  complete  academical  education. 
The  friend  to  whom  he  had  trusted  for  support  had 
deceived  him.  His  debts  in  College,  though  not  great, 
were  increasing ;  and  his  scanty  remittances  from 
Lichfield,  which  had  all  along  been  made  with  great 
difficulty,  could  be  supplied  no  longer,  his  father 
having  fallen  into  a  state  of  insolvency.  Compelled, 
therefore,  by  irresistible  necessity,  he  left  the  College 


iET.  22]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  49 

in  autumn  1731,  without  a  degree,  having  been  a 
member  of  it  little  more  than  three  years.* 

Dr.  Adams,  the  worthy  and  respectable  master  of 
Pembroke  College,  has  generally  had  the  reputation  of 
being  Johnson's  tutor.  The  fact,  however,  is,  that  in 
1731,  Mr.  Jorden  quitted  the  College,  and  his  pupils 
were  transferred  to  Dr.  Adams  ;  so  that  had  Johnson 
returned.  Dr.  Adams  would  have  been  hi*  tutor.  It  is 
to  be  wished  that  this  connection  had  taken  place. 
His  equal  temper,  mild  disposition,  and  politeness  of 
manners,  might  have  insensibly  softened  the  harshness 
of  Johnson,  and  infused  into  him  those  more  delicate 
charities,  those  petite*  moralet,  in  which,  it  must  be 
confessed,  our  great  moralist  was  more  deficient  than 
his  best  friends  could  fully  justify.  Dr.  Adams  paid 
Johnson  this  high  compliment.  He  said  to  me  at 
Oxford  in  1776,  '1  was  his  nominal  tutor ;  but  he  was 
above  my  mark.'  When  I  repeated  it  to  Johnson,  his 
eyes  flashed  with  grateful  satisfaction,  and  he  ex- 
claimed, 'That  was  liberal  and  noble.' 

And  now  (I  had  almost  said  poor)  Samuel  Johnson 
retarned  to  his  native  city,  destitute,  and  not  know- 
ing how  he  should  gain  even  a  decent  livelihood.  His 
father's  misfortunes  in  trade  rendered  him  unable  to 
support  his  son  ;  and  for  some  time  there  appeared  no 
means  by  which  he  could  maintain  himself.  In  the 
December  of  this  year  his  father  died. 

The  state  of  poverty  in  which  he  died  appears 
from  a  note  in  one  of  Johnson's  little  diaries  of  the 
following  year,  which  strongly  displays  his  spirit  and 

1  [Dr.Hill,  who  has  investigated  the  matter  with  the  utmost  care, 
it  of  opinion  that  Johnson  was  in  actual  residence  at  Pembroke  from 
October  1728  till  December  1729,  and  that  after  this  latter  date  he  nevef 
resided  in  college  again  except  for  a  week  or  two  in  1730. — A.  B.] 

VOL.   I.  D 


«0  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1731 

virtuous  dignity  of  mind.  '  1732,  JuUi  15.  Undeeim 
aureot  deposui,  quo  die  quicquid  ante  matrtMfunua  (quod 
eerum  sit  precor)  de  patemis  bonis  tperari  licet,  viginti 
scilicet  libras,  accepi.  Usque  adeo  mihi  fortune  fingenda 
est.  Interea,  ne  paupertate  vires  animi  languetcant,  nee 
inflagitia  egestas  abigat,  cavendum. — I  laid  by  eleven 
guineas  on  this  day,  when  I  received  twenty  pounds, 
being  all  that  I  have  reason  to  hope  for  out  of  my 
father's  effects,  previous  to  the  death  of  my  mother  ; 
an  event  which  I  pray  God  may  be  very  remote.  I 
now  therefore  see  that  I  must  make  my  own  fortune. 
Meanwhile,  let  me  take  care  that  the  powers  of  my 
mind  be  not  debilitated  by  poverty,  and  that  indigence 
do  not  force  me  into  any  criminal  act.' 

Johnson  was  so  far  fortunate,  that  the  respectable 
character  of  his  parents,  and  his  own  merit,  had,  from 
his  earliest  years,  secured  him  a  kind  reception  in  the 
best  families  at  Lichfield.  Among  these  I  can  men- 
tion Mr.  Howard,  Dr.  Swinfen,  Mr.  Simpson,  Mr. 
Levett,  Captain  Garrick,  father  of  the  great  ornament 
of  the  British  stage ;  but  above  all,  Mr.  Gilbert 
Walmsley,^  Registrar  of  the  Ecclesiastical  Court  of 
Lichfield,  whose  character,  long  after  his  decease, 
Dr.  Johnson  has,  in  his  life  of  Edmund  Smith,  thus 
drawn  in  the  glowing  colours  of  gratitude  : 

'  Of  Gilbert  "Walmsley,  thus  presented  to  my  mind,  let  me 
indulge  myself  in  the  remembrance.    I  knew  him  very  early  ; 

1  Mr.  Warton  informs  me,  'that  this  early  friend  of  Johnson  was 
entered  a  commoner  ofTrinity  College,  Oxford,  aged  seventeen,  in  1698  ; 
and  is  the  author  of  many  Latin  verse  translations  in  the  Gentleman  s 
Magazine.     One  of  them  is  a  translation  of 

"  My  time,  O  ye  Muses,  was  happily  spent," '  etc. 
He  died_  August  3,  1751,  and  a  monument  to  bis  memory  has  been 
<rected  in  the  cathedral  of  Lichfield,  with  an  inscription  written  by 
Mr.  Seward,  one  of  the  prebendaries. 


vBT.  22]    LIFE    OP   DR.    JOHNSON  51 

he  WM  one  of  the  first  f  rienda  that  literattire  procured  me,  and 
I  hope  that  at  least  my  gratitude  made  me  worthy  of  his  notice. 

'  He  was  of  an  advanced  age,  and  I  was  only  not  a  boy,  yet 
he  never  received  my  notions  with  contempt.  He  was  a 
Whig,  with  all  the  virulence  and  malevolence  of  his  party ; 
yet  difference  of  opinion  did  not  keep  us  apart.  I  honoured 
him,  and  he  endured  me. 

'  He  had  mingled  with  the  gay  world,  without  exemption 
from  its  vices  or  its  follies,  but  had  never  neglected  the  culti- 
vation of  his  mind.  His  belief  of  revelation  was  unshaken ; 
his  learning  preserved  his  principles;  he  grew  first  r^ular, 
and  then  pious. 

'His  studies  had  been  so  various,  that  I  am  not  able  to 
name  a  man  of  equal  knowledge.  His  acquaintance  with 
books  was  great,  and  what  he  did  not  immediately  know,  he 
ooold,  at  least,  tell  where  to  find.  Such  was  his  amplitude  of 
learning,  and  such  his  copiousness  of  oommtmication,  that  it 
may  be  doubted  whether  a  day  now  passes  in  which  I  have 
not  some  advantage  from  his  friendship. 

'  At  this  man's  table  I  enjoyed  many  cheerful  and  instruc- 
tive hours,  with  companions  such  as  are  not  often  found — 
with  one  who  has  lengthened,  and  one  who  has  gladdened  life ; 
with  Dr.  James,  whose  skill  in  physic  will  be  long  remem- 
bered ;  and  with  David  Garrick,  whom  I  hoped  to  have 
gratified  with  this  character  of  our  common  friend.  But 
what  are  the  hopes  of  man  !  I  am  disappointed  by  that 
Vtvoke  of  death,  which  has  eclipsed  the  gaiety  of  nations,  and 
impoverished  the  public  stock  of  harmless  pleasure.' 

In  these  families  he  passed  much  time  in  his  early 
years.  In  most  of  them  he  was  in  the  company  of 
ladies,  particularly  at  Mr.  Walmsley's,  whose  wife  and 
sisters-in-law,  of  the  name  of  Aston,  and  daughters 
of  a  baronet,  were  remarkable  for  good  breeding  ;  so 
that  the  notion  which  has  been  industriously  circu- 
lated and  believed,  that  he  never  was  in  good  com- 
pany till  late  in  life,  and  consequently  had  been 
confirmed  in  coarse  and  ferocious  manners  by  long 
habits,  is  wholly  without  foundation.     Some  of  the 


62  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1732 

ladies  have  assured  me  they  recollected  him  well  when 
a  young  man  as  distinguished  for  his  complaisance. 

And  that  his  politeness  was  not  merely  occasional 
and  temporary,  or  confined  to  the  circles  of  Lichfield, 
is  ascertained  by  the  testimony  of  a  lady,  who,  in  a 
paper  with  which  I  have  been  favoured  by  a  daughter 
of  his  intimate  friend  and  physician.  Dr.  Lawrence, 
thus  describes  Dr.  Johnson  some  years  afterwards  : 

'  As  the  particulars  of  the  former  part  of  Dr.  Johnson'*  life 
do  not  seem  to  be  very  accurately  known,  a  lady  hopes  that 
the  following  information  may  not  be  unacceptable. 

'  She  remembers  Dr.  Johnson  on  a  visit  to  Dr.  Taylor  at 
Ashbourne,  sometime  between  the  end  of  the  year  '37  and  the 
middle  of  the  year  '40 ;  she  rather  thinks  it  to  have  been  after 
he  and  his  wife  were  removed  to  London.  During  his  stay 
at  Ashbourne,  he  made  frequent  visits  to  Mr.  Meynell,  at 
Bradley,  where  his  company  was  much  desired  by  the  ladies 
of  the  family,  who  were,  perhaps,  in  point  of  elegance  and 
accomplishments,  inferior  to  few  of  those  with  whom  he  was 
afterwards  acquainted.  Mr.  Meynell's  eldest  daughter  was 
afterwards  married  to  Mr.  Fitzherbert,  father  to  Mr.  Alleyne 
Fitzherbert,  lately  minister  to  the  Court  of  Russia.  Of  her. 
Dr.  Johnson  said,  in  Dr.  Lawrence's  study,  that  she  had  the 
best  understanding  he  ever  met  with  in  any  human  being.  At 
Mr.  Meynell's  he  also  commenced  that  friendship  with  Nib. 
Hill  Boothby,  sister  to  the  present  Sir  Brook  Boothby,  which 
continued  till  her  death.  The  young  vxmuin  whom  he  used 
to  caU  Molly  AtUnit^  was  sister  to  Sir  Thomas  Aston,  and 
daughter  to  a  baronet ;  she  was  also  sister  to  the  wife  of  his 
friend,  Mr.  Gilbert  Walmsley.'  Besides  his  intimacy  with 
the  above-mentioned  persons,  who  were  surely  people  of  rank 

1  The  words  of  Sir  John  Hawkins,  p.  516. 

-  [Sir  Thomas  Aston,  Bart.,  who  died  in  Janixary  1724-5,  left  one  son, 
named  Thomas  also,  and  eight  daughters.  Of  the  daughters,  Catharine 
married  Johnson's  friend,  the  Hon.  Henry  Hervey  ;  Margaret,  Gilbert 
Walmsley.  Another  of  these  ladies  married  the  Rev.  Mr.  Gastrel. 
Mary,  or  Molly  Aston,  as  she  was  usually  called,  became  the  wife  of 
Captain  Brodie  of  the  Navy.  Another  sister,  who  was  tinmarried,  was 
living  at  Lichfield  in  1776.— M.] 


jer.23]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON  63 

and  education,  while  he  was  yet  at  Lichfield  he  osed  to  be 
frequently  at  the  house  of  Dr.  Swinfen,  a  gentleman  of  very 
ancient  family  in  Staffordshire,  from  which,  after  the  death 
of  his  elder  brother,  he  inherited  a  good  estate.  He  waa, 
besides,  a  physician  of  very  extensive  practice ;  but  for  want 
of  due  attention  to  the  management  of  his  domestic  concerns, 
left  a  very  large  family  in  indigence.  One  of  his  daughters, 
Sirs.  Desmoiilins,  afterwards  found  an  asylum  in  the  house  of 
her  old  friend,  whose  doors  were  always  open  to  the  unfor- 
tunate, and  who  well  observed  the  precept  of  the  Gospel,  for 
he  "  was  kind  to  the  unthankful  and  to  the  eviL" ' 

In  the  forlorn  state  of  his  circumstances,  he  accepted 
of  an  offer  to  be  employed  as  usher  in  the  school  of 
Market  Bosworth,  in  Leicestershire,  to  which  it  ap- 
pears, from  one  of  his  little  fragments  of  a  diary,  that 
he  went  on  foot,  on  the  16th  of  July: — ' Julii  16, 
Bosvortiam  pedes  petit.'  But  it  is  not  true,  as  has 
been  erroneously  related,  that  he  was  assistant  to  the 
famous  Anthony  Blackwall^  whose  merit  has  been 
honoured  by  the  testimony  of  Bishop  Hurd,^  who  was 
his  scholar ;  for  Mr.  Blackwall  died  on  the  8th  of 
h  April  1730,^  more  than  a  year  before  Johnson  left  the 
University. 

This  employment  was  very  irksome  to  him  in  every 
respect^  and  he  complained  grievously  of  it  in  his 
letters  to  his  friend,  Mr.  Hector,  who  was  now  settled 
as  a  surgeon  at  Birmingham.  The  letters  are  lost; 
but  Mr.  Hector  recollects  his  writing  '  that  the  poet 

1  [There  is  here  (as  Mr.  James  Boswell  observes  to  me)  a  sliebt  inac- 
curacy. Bishop  Kurd,  in  the  Epistle  Dedicatory  prefixed  to  his 
Commentary  on  Hornet's  Art  of  Poetry,  etc.,  docs  not  praise  Black- 
wall,  but  the  Rev.  Mr.  Budworth,  headmaster  of  the  grammar  school 
at  Brewood  in  Staffordshire,  who  had  himself  been  bred  under  Black- 
wall.  See  vol.  iv.  near  the  end,  where,  from  the  information  of  Mr. 
John  Nicols,  Johnson  is  said  to  have  applied  in  1736  to  Mr.  Budworth, 
to  be  received  by  him  as  an  assistant  in  his  school  m  Staffordshire. — M.] 

*  See  Gtntltmani  Magazine,  December  1784,  p.  957. 


U  LIFE   OF  DR.    JOHNSON       [1735 

had  described  the  dull  sameness  of  his  existence  in 
these  words,  **  Vitam  continet  una  die* "  (one  day 
contains  the  whole  of  my  life)  ;  that  it  was  unvaried 
as  the  note  of  the  cuckoo ;  and  that  he  did  not  know 
whether  it  was  more  disagreeable  for  him  to  teach,  or 
the  boys  to  learn,  the  grammar  rules. '  His  general 
aversion  to  this  painful  drudgery  was  greatly  enhanced 
by  a  disagreement  between  him  and  Sir  Wolstan  Dixie, 
the  patron  of  the  school,  in  whose  house,  I  have  been 
told,  he  officiated  as  a  kind  of  domestic  chaplain,  so 
far,  at  least,  as  to  say  grace  at  table,  but  was  treated 
with  what  he  represented  as  intolerable  harshneM : 
and,  after  suffering  for  a  few  months  such  complicated 
misery,'  he  relinquished  a  situation  which  all  his  life 
afterwards  he  recollected  with  the  strongest  aversion, 
and  even  a  degree  of  horror.  But  it  is  probable  that 
at  this  period,  whatever  uneasiness  he  may  have  en- 
dured, he  laid  the  foundation  of  much  future  eminence 
by  application  to  his  studies. 

Being  now  again  totally  unoccupied,  he  was  invited 
by  Mr.  Hector  to  pass  some  time  with  him  at  Birming- 
ham as  his  guest,  at  the  house  of  Mr.  "Warren,  with 
whom  Mr.  Hector  lodged  and  boarded.  Mr.  Warren 
was  the  first  established  bookseller  in  Birmingham, 
and  was  very  attentive  to  Johnson,  whom  he  soon 
found  could  be  of  much  service  to  him  in  his  trade  by 
his  knowledge  of  literature  ;  and  he  even  obtained  the 
assistance  of  his  pen  in  furnishing  some  numbers  of  a 
periodical  essay  printed  in  the  newspaper  of  which 


1  [It  appears  from  a  letter  of  Johnson's  to  a  friend,  which  I  have 
read,  dated  Lichfield,  July  27,  1732,  that  he  had  left  Sir  Wolstan 
Dixie's  house  recently,  before  that  letter  was  written.  He  then  had 
hopes  of  succeeding  either  as  master  or  usher,  in  the  school  of  Asb* 
bourne. — M.] 


/ET.  24]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  65 

Warren  was  proprietor.  After  very  diligent  inquiry, 
I  have  not  been  able  to  recover  those  early  specimens 
of  that  particular  mode  of  writing  by  which  Johnson 
afterwards  so  greatly  distinguished  himself. 

He  continued  to  live  as  Mr.  Hector's  guest  for 
about  six  months^  and  then  hired  lodgings  in  another 
part  of  the  town/  finding  himself  as  well  situated  at 
Birmingham  as  he  supposed  he  could  be  anywhere, 
while  he  had  no  settled  plan  of  life,  and  very  scanty 
means  of  subsistence.  He  made  some  valuable  acquaint- 
ances there,  amongst  whom  were  Mr.  Porter,  a  mercer, 
whose  widow  he  afterwards  married,  and  Mr.  Taylor, 
who,  by  his  ingenuity  in  mechanical  inventions,  and 
his  success  in  trade,  acquired  an  immense  fortune. 
But  the  comfort  of  being  near  Mr.  Hector,  his  old 
schoolfellow  and  intimate  friend,  was  Johnson's  chief 
inducement  to  continue  here. 

In  what  manner  he  employed  his  pen  at  this  period, 
or  whether  he  derived  from  it  any  pecuniary  advan- 
tage, I  have  not  been  able  to  ascertain.  He  probably 
got  a  little  money  from  Mr.  Warren  ;  and  we  are 
certain  that  he  executed  here  one  piece  of  literary 
labour  of  which  Mr.  Hector  has  favoured  me  with  a 
minute  account.  Having  mentioned  that  he  had  read 
at  Pembroke  College  a  Voyage  to  Abyssinia,  by  Lobo, 
a  Portuguese  Jesuit,  and  that  he  thought  an  abridg- 
ment and  translation  of  it  from  the  French  into  £ng 
lish  might  be  a  useful  and  profitable  publication,  Mr 
Warren  and  Mr.  Hector  joined  in  urging  him  to  under- 


1  [In  June  1733,  Sir  John  Hawkins  states,  from  one  of  Johnson's 
diaries,  that  be  lodged  in  Birmingham  at  the  house  of  a  person  named 
Jarvis,  probably  a  relation  of  Mrs.  Porter,  whom  be  afterwards 
married.— M.] 


56  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1733 

take  it  He  accordingly  agreed  ;  and  the  book  not 
being  to  be  found  in  Birmingham,  he  borrowed  it  of 
Pembroke  College.  A  part  of  the  work  being  very 
soon  done,  one  Osbom,  who  waa  Mr.  Warren's  printer, 
was  set  to  work  with  what  was  ready,  and  Johnson 
engaged  to  supply  the  press  with  copy  as  it  should  be 
wanted ;  but  his  constitutional  indolence  soon  pre- 
vailed, and  the  work  was  at  a  stand.  Mr.  Hector, 
who  knew  that  a  motive  of  humanity  would  be  the 
most  prevailing  argument  with  his  friend,  went  to 
Johnson,  and  represented  to  him  that  the  printer 
.could  have  no  other  employment  till  this  undertaking 
was  finished,  and  that  the  poor  man  and  his  family 
were  suifering.  Johnson  upon  this  exerted  the  powers 
of  his  mind,  though  his  body  was  relaxed.  He  lay  in 
bed  with  the  book,  which  was  a  quarto,  before  him, 
and  dictated  while  Hector  wrote.  Mr.  Hector  carried 
the  sheets  to  the  press,  and  corrected  almost  all  the 
proof-sheets,  very  few  of  which  were  ever  seen  by 
Johnson.  In  this  manner,  with  the  aid  of  Mr.  Hector's 
active  friendship,  the  book  was  completed,  and  was 
published  in  1735,  with  London  upon  the  title-page, 
though  it  was  in  reality  printed  at  Birmingham,  a 
device  too  common  with  provincial  publishers.  For 
this  work  he  had  from  Mr.  Warren  only  the  sum  of 
five  guineas.^ 

This  being  the  first  prose  work  of  Johnson,  it  is  a 
curious  object  of  inquiry  how  much  may  be  traced  in 
it  of  that  style  which  marks  his  subsequent  writings 
with  such  peculiar  excellence  ;  with  so  happy  a  union 
■of  force,  vivacity,  and  perspicuity.  I  have  perused 
the  book  with  this  view,  and  have  found  that  here, 
as  I  believe  in  every  other  translation,  there  is  in  the 


iET.  24]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  67 

work  itself  no  vestige  of  the  translator's  own  style  ; 
for  the  language  of  translation  being  adapted  to  the 
thoughts  of  another  person,  insensibly  follows  their 
cast,  and,  as  it  were,  runs  into  a  mould  that  is  ready 
prepared. 

Tlius,  for  instance,  taking  the  first  sentence  that 
occurs  at  the  opening  of  the  book,  p.  4  : 

'  I  lived  here  above  a  year,  and  completed  my  stadies  in 
divinity,  in  which  time  some  letters  were  received  from  the 
fathers  of  Ethiopia,  with  an  account  that  Sultan  Segned, 
Emperor  of  Abyssinia,  was  converted  to  the  Church  of  Rome ; 
that  many  of  his  subjecta  had  followed  his  example,  and  that  , 
there  was  a  great  want  of  missionaries  to  improve  these  pros- 
perous beginnings.  Everybody  was  very  desirous  of  seconding 
the  zeal  of  our  fathers,  and  of  sending  them  the  assistance 
they  requested,  to  which  we  were  the  more  encouraged  because 
the  Emperor's  letter  informed  our  provincial  that  we  might 
easily  enter  his  dominions  by  the  way  of  Dancala ;  but, 
unhappily,  the  Secretary  wrote  Geila  for  Dancala,  which  cost 
two  of  our  fathers  their  lives.' 

Every  one  acquainted  with  Johnson's  manner  will 
be  sensible  that  there  is  nothing  of  it  here  ;  but  that 
this  sentence  might  have  been  composed  by  any  other 
than. 

But  in  the  Preface  the  Johnsonian  style  begins  to 
appear ;  and  though  use  had  not  yet  taught  his  wing 
a  permanent  and  equable  flight,  there  are  parts  of  it 
which  exhibit  his  best  manner  in  full  vigour.  I  had 
once  the  pleasure  of  examining  it  with  Mr.  Edmund 
Burke,  who  confirmed  me  in  this  opinion  by  his 
superior  critical  sagacity,  and  was,  I  remember, 
much  delighted  with  the  following  specimen  : 

'  The  Portuguese  traveller,  contrary  to  the  general  vein  of 
his  countrymen,  has  amused  his  reader  with  no  romantic 


66  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON         1734 

absurditj  or  incredible  fiotiona  ;  whstever  he  reUtea,  whethor 
true  or  not,  is  &t  least  probable ;  and  be  who  tells  nothing 
exceeding  the  bounds  of  probability  has  a  right  to  demand 
that  they  should  believe  him  who  oannot  oontiadiot  him. 

'He  appears  by  his  modest  and  onaffeoted  narration  to 
have  described  things  as  he  saw  them,  to  have  copied  nature 
from  the  life,  and  to  have  oonsolted  his  senses,  not  his  ima- 
gination. He  meets  with  no  basilisks  that  destroy  with  their 
eyes ;  his  crocodiles  devour  their  prey  without  tears,  and  his 
cataracts  fall  from  the  rocks  without  deafening  the  neigh- 
bouring  inhabitants. 

'  The  reader  will  here  find  no  r^ons  cursed  with  irremedi- 
able barrenness,  or  blest  with  spontaneous  fecundity  ;  no  per- 
petual gloom,  or  unceasing  sunshine  ;  nor  are  the  nations  here 
described  either  devoid  of  all  sense  of  humanity  or  consum- 
mate in  all  private  or  social  virtues.  Here  are  no  Hottentots 
without  religious  policy  or  articulate  language  ;  no  Chinese 
])erfectly  polite,  and  completely  skilled  in  all  sciences ;  he 
will  discover,  what  will  always  be  discovered  by  a  diligent 
and  impartial  inquirer,  that  wherever  human  nature  is  to  be 
found,  there  is  a  mixture  of  vice  and  virtue,  a  contest  of 
ptusion  and  reason ;  and  that  the  Creator  doth  not  appear 
partial  in  his  distributions,  but  has  balanced,  in  most  countries, 
their  particular  inconveniences  by  particular  favours.' 

Here  we  have  an  early  example  of  that  brilliant  and 
energetic  expression  which  upon  innumerable  occa- 
sions in  his  subsequent  life  justly  impressed  the  world 
with  the  highest  admiration. 

Nor  can  any  one  conversant  with  the  writings  of 
Johnson  fail  to  discern  his  hand  in  this  passage  of  the 
Dedication  to  John  Warren,  Esq.  of  Pembrokeshire, 
though  it  is  ascribed  to  Warren  the  bookseller  : 

'  A  generous  and  elevated  mind  is  distinguished  by  nothing 
more  certainly  than  an  eminent  degree  of  curiosity ;  ^  nor 
is  that  curiosity  ever  more  agreeably  or  usefully  employed 


1  See  Rambler,  No.  103. 


JET.  25]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  69 

than  in  examining  the  laws  and  customs  of  foreign  nations. 
I  hope,  therefore,  the  present  I  now  presume  to  make  will 
not  be  thought  improper,  which,  however,  it  is  not  my 
business  as  a  dedicator  to  commend,  nor  as  a  bookseller  to 
deiveoiate.' 

It  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  bis  haWng  been  thus 
accidentally  led  to  a  particular  study  of  the  history 
and  manners  of  Abyssinia,  was  the  remote  occasion  of 
his  writing,  many  years  afterwards,  his  adn\irable  philo- 
sophical tale,  tlie  principal  scene  of  which  is  laid  in 
that  country. 

Johnson  returned  to  Lichfield  early  in  1734,  and  in 
August  that  year  he  made  an  attempt  to  procure  some 
little  subsistence  by  his  pen ;  for  he  published  pro- 
posals for  printing  by  subscription  the  Latin  Poems  of 
Politian  :  ^  '  Angeli  Politiani  Poemata  Laiina,  quibu* 
Nota»,  cum  Ilistoria  Latirue  poeseos,  a  Petrarchee  cevo  ad 
Politiani  tempora  deducta,  et  vita  Politiani  fusius  quam 
antehac  enarrata,  addidit  Sam.  Johi^son.'  ' 

It  appears  that  his  brother  Nathanael  had  taken  up 
his  father's  trade  ;  for  it  is  mentioned  that  '  subscrip- 
tions are  taken  in  by  the  Editor,  or  N.  Johnson,  book- 
seller, of  Lichfield.*  Notwithstanding  the  merit  of 
Johnson,  and  the  cheap  price  at  which  his  book  was 
oflFered,  there  were  not  subscribers  enough  to  ensure 
a  sufficient  sale ;  so  the  work  never  appeared,  and  pro- 
bably never  was  executed. 


1  May  we  not  trace  a_  fanciful  similarity  between  Politian  and 
Johnson  ?    Huetius,  speaking  of  Paulus  Pelissonius  Fontanerius,  says, 

— in  quo  Natura,  ut  olim  in  Angelo  Politiano,  deformitatem  oris 
excellentis  ingenii  pra:stantia  compensavit.'— 0/«w*«/.  de  Rtb.  ad  turn 
pertin.     Edit.  Amstel.  1718,  p.  200. 

2  The  book  was  to  contain  more  than  thirty  sheets  ;  the  price  to  be 
two  shillings  and  sixpence  at  the  time  of  subsoibing,  and  two  shillings 
(md  sixpence  at  the  delivery  of  a  perfect  book  in  quires. 


60  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1734 

We  find  him  again  this  year  at  Birmingham,  and 
there  is  preserved  the  following  letter  from  him  to 
Mr.  Edward  Cave,^  the  original  compiler  and  editor 
of  the  Gentleman' t  Magazine : 

TO  KB.    CAVB 

'Nov.  95,  ITU. 

'  Sir, — As  yon  appear  no  lets  tenaible  than  jour  reader*  at 
the  defects  of  jour  poetical  article,  jon  will  not  be  displeaaed 
if,  in  order  to  the  improvement  of  it,  I  communicate  to  joa 
the  sentiments  of  a  person  who  will  undertake,  on  reaaonable 
terms,  sometimes  to  fill  a  column. 

'  His  opinion  is  that  the  public  would  not  give  jou  a  bad 
reception  if,  beside  the  current  wit  of  the  month,  which  a 
critical  examination  would  generally  reduce  to  a  narrow  com* 
pass,  you  admitted  not  only  poems,  inscriptions,  etc.,  never 
printed  before,  which  he  will  sometimes  supply  you  with, 
but  likewise  short  literary  dissertations  in  Latin  or  English, 
critical  remarks  on  authors  ancient  or  modem,  forgotten  poema 
that  deserve  revival,  or  loose  pieces,  like  Floyer's,'  worth  pre- 
serving. By  this  method,  your  literary  article,  for  so  it  might 
be  called,  will,  he  thinks,  be  better  reoommended  to  the  public 
than  by  low  jests,  awkward  buffoonery,  or  the  dull  acurrilitiea 
of  either  party. 

'If  such  a  correspondence  will  be  agreeable  to  you,  be 
pleased  to  inform  me,  in  two  posts,  what  the  conditions  are 
on  which  you  shall  expect  it.  Tour  late  offer  *  gives  me  no 
reason  to  distrust  your  generosity.  If  you  engage  in  any 
literary  projects  besides  this  paper,  I  have  other  designs  to 
impart,  if  I  could  be  secure  from  having  others  reap  the 
advantage  of  what  I  should  hint. 


1  Miss  Cave,  the  grandniece  of  Mr.  Edw.  Cave,  has  obligingly 
shown  me  the  originals  of  this  and  the  other  letters  of  Dr.  Johnson  to 
him,  which  were  first  published  in  the  GentUtHati  s  Magazint,  with 
notes  by  Mr.  John  Nichols,  the  worthy  and  indefatigable  ^itor  of  that 
valuable  miscellany,  signed  N.,  some  of  which  1  shall  occasionally 
transcribe  in  the  course  of  this  work. 

2  Sir  John  Floyer's  '  Treatise  on  Cold  Baths.' — Gentleman' t  MagOr 
sine,  1734,  p.  197. 

i'[A  prize  of  fifty  pounds  for  the  best  poem  'On  Life,  Death, 
Judgment,  Heaven,  and  Hell.'    See  GentUman'*  Magatint,  vol.  iv. 

p.  560. — ISICHOLS.J 


iEr.  25]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON  61 

'  Your  letter,  by  being  directed  to  S.  Smith,  to  be  left  at  the 
Caatle  in  Birmingham,  Warwickshire,  will  reach 

*  Your  humble  servant.' 

Mr.  Cave  has  put  a  note  on  this  letter^  '  Answered 
Dec.  2.'  But  whether  anything'  was  done  in  conse* 
quence  of  it  we  are  not  informed. 

Johnson  had,  from  his  early  youth,  been  sensible  to 
the  influence  of  female  charms.  When  at  Stourbridge 
school  he  was  much  enamoured  of  Olivia  Lloyd,  a 
young  quaker,  to  whom  he  wrote  a  copy  of  verses, 
which  I  have  not  been  able  to  recover  ;  but  with  what 
facility  and  elegance  he  could  warble  the  amorous  lay 
will  appear  from  the  following  lines  which  he  wrote  for 
his  friend  Mr.  Edmund  Hector  : 

Verses  to  a  Lady,  on  receiving  from  her  a  Sprig  of  Myrtle 

*  What  hopes,  what  terrors  does  thj  gift  create, 
Ambiguotis  emblem  of  uncertain  fate  ! 
The  myrtle,  ensign  of  supreme  command, 
Clonsign'd  by  Venus  to  Melissa's  hand  ; 
Not  less  capricious  than  a  reigning  fair. 
Now  grants,  and  now  rejects  a  lover's  prayer. 
In  myrtle  shades  oft  sings  the  happy  swain  ; 
In  myrtle  shades  despairing  ghosts  complain  ; 
The  myrtle  crowns  the  happy  lovers'  heads, 
The  unhappy  lover's  grave  the  myrtle  spreads  : 
O  then  the  meaning  of  thy  gift  impart, 
And  ease  the  throbbings  of  an  anxious  heart ! 
Soon  must  this  bough,  as  you  shall  fix  his  doom. 
Adorn  Philander's  head,  or  grace  his  tomb.'  ^ 


1  Mrs.  Piozzi  gives  the  following  account  of  this  little  compositioo 
from  Dr.  Johnson's  own  relation  to  her,  on  her  inquiring  whether  it  was 
rightly  attributed  to  hira  : — '  I  think  it  b  now  just  forty  years  ago  that 
a  yoting  fellow  had  a  sprig  of  myrtle  given  him  by  a  girl  he  courted, 
and  asked  me  to  write  him  some  verses  that  he  might  present  her  in 
return.  I  promised,  but  forgot ;  and  when  be  called  for  Lis  lines  at  thft 
time  agreed  on — "Sit  still  a  moment  (says  I),  dear  Mund,  and  I'll 


62  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1734 

His  juvenile  attachments  to  the  fair  sex  were,  how- 
ever, very  transient ;  and  it  is  certain  that  he  formed 
no  criminal  connection  whatsoever.  Mr.  Hector,  who 
lived  with  him  in  his  younger  days  in  the  utmost 
intimacy  and  social  freedom,  has  assured  me,  that 
even  at  that  ardent  season  his  conduct  was  strictly 
virtuous  in  that  respect ;  and  that  though  he  loved 
to  exhilarate  himself  with  wine,  he  never  knew  him 
intoxicated  but  once. 

In  a  man  whom  religious  education  has  teenred 
from  licentious  indulgences,  the  passion  of  love,  when 
once  it  has  seized  him,  is  exceedingly  strong ;  being 
unimpaired  by  dissipation,  and  totally  concentrated  in 
one  object.     This  was  experienced  by  Johnson,  when 


fetch  them  thee" — so  stepped  aside  for  five  minutes,  and  wrote  the 
nonsense  you  now  keep  sucn  a  stir  about.' — Antcdotti. 

In  my  first  edition  i  was  induced  to  doubt  the  authenticity  of  this 
account  by  the  following  circtunstantial  statement  in  a  letter  to  me 
from  Miss  Seward,  of  Lichfield  : — '  I  know  those  verses  were  addressed 
to  Lucy  Porter,  when  he  was  enamoured  of  her  in  his  boyish  days,  two 
or  three  years  before  he  had  seen  her  mother,  his  future  wife.  He 
wrote  them  at  my  grandfather's,  and  gave  them  to  Lucy  in  the  presence 
of  my  mother,  to  whom  he  showed  them  on  the  instant.  She  used  to 
repeat  them  to  me  when  I  asked  her  for  the  Verset  Dr.  Johnxon  gave 
ktr  on  a  Sprig  of  Myrtle,  which  he  had  stolen  or  begged  frotn  Ktr 
bosom.  We  all  know  honest  Lucy  Porter  to  have  been  incapable  of 
the  mean  vanity  of  applying  to  herself  a  compliment  not  intended  for 
her.'  Such  was  this  lady's  statement,  which  I  make  no  doubt  she  sup- 
posed to  be  correct ;  but  it  shows  how  dangerous  it  is  to  trust  too 
implicitly  to  traditional  testimony  and  ingenious  inference^  for  Mr, 
Hector  has  lately  assured  me  that  Mrs.  Piozzj's  account  is  in  this 
instance  accurate,  and  that  he  was  the  person  for  whom  Johnson 
wrote  those  verses,  which  have  been  erroneously  ascribed  to  Mr. 
Hammond. 

I  am  obliged  in  so  many  instances  to  notice  Mrs.  Piozzi's  incorrect- 
ness of  relation,  that  I  gladly  seize  this  opportunity  of  acknowledging 
that,  however  often,  she  is  not  always  inaccurate. 

The  author  having  been  drawn  into  a  controversy  with  Miss  Anna 
Seward,  in  consequence  of  the  preceding  statement  (which  may  be 
found  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  vol.  Txiii.  and  Ixiv.)  received  the 
following  letter  from  Mr.  Edmund  Hector  on  the  subject  : 

'  Dear  Sir, — I  am  sorry  to  see  you  are  engaged  in  altercation  with 
a  lady  who  seems  unwilling  to  be  convinced  of  her  errors.  Surely  it 
would  be  more  ingenuous  to  acknowledge  than  to  perse\'ere. 


JET.2S]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  63 

he  became  the  fervent  admirer  of  Mrs.  Porter  after 
her  first  husband's  death. ^  Miss  Porter  told  me,  that 
when  he  was  first  introduced  to  her  mother,  his  ap- 
pearance was  very  forbidding :  he  was  then  lean  and 
lank,  go  that  his  immense  structure  of  bones  was 
hideously  striking  to  the  eye,  and  the  scars  of  the 
scrofula  were  deeply  visible.  He  also  wore  his  hair, 
which  was  straight  and  stiff,  and  separated  behind  : 
and  he  often  had,  seemingly,  convulsive  starts  and 
odd  g^esticulations,  which  tended  to  excite  at  once 
surprise  and  ridicule.  Mrs.  Porter  was  so  much 
engaged  by  his  conversation  that  she  overlooked  all 
these  external  disadvantages,  and  said  to  her  daughter, 
'  this  is  the  most  sensible  man  that  I  ever  saw  in  my 
life.' 
Though  Mrs.  Porter  was  double  the  age  of  Johnson,' 

'  Lately,  in  looking  over  some  papers  I  meant  to  bum,  I  found  the 
original  manuscript  of  the  myrtle,  with  the  date  on  it,  1731,  which  I 
have  enclosed.  _ 

'  The  true  history  (which  I  could  swear  to)  is  as  follows : — Mr. 
Morgan  Graves,  the  elder  brother  of  a  worthy  clergyman  near  Bath, 
with  whom  I  was  acquainted,  waited  upon  a  lady  in  this  neighbour- 
hood, who  at  parting  presented  him  the  branch.  He  showed  it  me,  and 
4  wished  much  to  return  the  compliment  in  verse.  I  applied  to  Johnson, 
WHO  was  with  me,  and  in  about  half  an  hour  dictated  the  verses,  which 
I  sent  to  my  friend. 

'  I  most  solemnly  declare,  at  that^  time  Johnson  was  an  entire 
stranger  to  the  Porter  family  ;  and  it  was  almost  two  years  after 
that  I  introduced  him  to  the  acquaintance  of  Porter,  whom  I  bought 
my  clothes  of. 

'  If  vou  intend  to  convince  this  obstinate  woman,  and  to  exhibit  to 
the  public  the  truth  of  your  narrative,  you  are  at  liberty  to  make  what 
use  you  please  of  this  statement. 

'  I  hope  you  will  pardon  me  for  taking  up  so  much  of  your  time. 
Wishing  you  multot  et  ftlicts  annos,  I  shall  subscribe  myself  your 
obliged  humble  servant,  £.  Hector. 

'  Birmini^/tam,  Jan.  Qih,  1794.' 

1  [It  appears,  from  Mr.  Hector's  letter,  that  Johnson  became  ac- 
quainted with  her  three  years  before  he  married  her. — M.] 

'  [Mrs.  Johnson's  maiden  name  was  Jervis.  Though  there  was  a 
great  disparity  of  years  between  her  and  Dr.  Johnson,  she  was  not 
quite  so  old  as  she  is  here  represented,  being  only  at  the  time  of  her 
marriage  in  her  forty-eighth  year,  as  appears  by  the  following  extract 
from  the  parish-register  of  Great  Peatling,  in  Leicestershire,  which  was 


64  LIFE   OF  DR.    JOHNSON       [1736 

and  her  person  and  manner,  as  described  to  me  by  the 
late  Mr.  Garrick,  were  by  no  means  pleasing  to  others,* 
she  must  have  had  a  superiority  of  understanding  and 
talents,'  as  she  certainly  inspired  him  with  a  more 
than  ordinary  passion;  and  she  having  signified  her 
willingness  to  accept  of  his  hand,  he  went  to  Lichfield 
to  ask  his  mother's  consent  to  the  marriage,  which 
he  could  not  but  be  conscious  was  a  very  imprudent 
scheme,  both  on  account  of  their  disparity  of  years, 
and  her  want  of  fortune.  But  Mrs.  Johnson  knew 
too  well  the  ardour  of  her  son's  temper,  and  was  too 
tender  a  parent  to  oppose  his  inclinations. 


obligingly  made,  at  my  request,  by  the  Hon.  and  Rev.  Mr.  Ryder, 
Rector  ot  Lutterworth,  in  that  county : — 

'Anno  Dom.  i688[-q1j  Elizabeth,  the  daughter  of  William  Jervis. 
Esq.,  and  Mrs.  Anne  his  wife,  bom  the  fourth  day  of  Febrxiary  aiul 
niani,  baptized  i6th  day  of  the  same  mooth  by  Mr.  Smith,  Curate  of 
Little  Peatling.  John  Allen,  Vicar.' 

The  family  of  Jervis,  Mr.  Ryder  informs  me,  once  possessed  nearly 
the  whole  lordship  of  Great  Peatling  (about  2000  acres),  smd  there  are 
many  monuments  of  them  in  the  church  ;  but  the  estate  is  now  much 
reduced.  The  present  representative  of  this  ancient  family  is  Mr. 
Charles  Jervis,  of  Hinckley,  Attorney-at-Law. — M.] 

1  [That  in  Johnson's  eyes  she  was  handsome  appears  from  the  epitaph 
which  he  caused  to  be  inscribed  on  her  tombstone  not  long  before  his 
own  death,  and  which  may  be  found  in  a  subsequent  page,  under  the 
year  1752. — M.J 

*  [The  following  account  of  Mrs.  Johnson  and  her  family  is  copied 
from  a  paper  (chiefly  relating  to  Mrs.  Anna  Williams)  written  by  Lady 
Knight  at  Rome,  and  transmitted  by  her  to  the  late  John  Hoole.Esq., 
the  translator  of  Metastasio,  etc.,  by  whom  it  was  inserted  in  the 
European  Magazine  for  October  1799 : — 

'  Mrs.  Williams's  account  of  Mrs.  Johnson  was  that  she  had  a  good 
understanding  and  great  sensibility,  but  inclined  to  be  satirical  Her 
first  husband  died  insolvent ;  her  sons  were  much  disgusted_  with  her 
for  her  second  marriage,  perhaps  because  they,  being  struggling  to  get 
advanced  in  life,  were  mortified  to  think  she  had  allied  herself  to  a  man 
who  had  not  any  visible  means  of  being  useful  to  them  :  howe\"er,  she 
always  retained  her  affection  for  them.  While  they  (Dr.  and  Mrs. 
Johnson)  resided  in  Gough  Square,  her  son,  the  officer,  knocked  at  the 
door,  and  asked  the  maid  if  her  mistress  was  at  home.  She  answered, 
"Yes,  sir;  but  she  is  sick  in  bed."  "O,"  says  he,  "if  it's  so,  tell  her 
that  her  son  Jervis  called  to  know  how  she  did  "  ;  and  was  going  away. 
The  maid  begged  she  might  run  up  to  tell  her  mistress,  and  without 
attending  his  answer,  left  nim.  Mrs.  Johnson,  enraptured  to  hear  that 
her  son  was  below,  desired  the  maid  to  teU  him  she  longed  to  embrace 


iET.  27]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  65 

I  know  not  for  what  reason  the  marriage  ceremony 
was  not  performed  at  Birmingham ;  but  a  resolution 
was  taken  that  it  should  be  at  Derby^  for  which  place 
the  bride  and  bridegroom  set  out  on  horseback,  I 
suppose  in  very  good  humour.  But  though  Mr. 
Topham  Beauclerk  used  archly  to  mention  Johnson's 
having  told  him,  with  much  gravity,  'Sir,  it  was  ■ 
love  marriage  on  both  sides,'  I  have  had  from  my 
illustrious  friend  the  following  curious  account  of 
their  journey  to  church  upon  the  nuptial  mom  (9th 
July): — 'Sir,  she  had  read  the  old  romances,  and 
had  got  into  her  head  the  fantastical  notion  that  a 
woman  of  spirit  should  use  her  lover  like  a  d6g.  So, 
sir,  at  first  she  told  me  that  I  rode  too  fast,  and  she 
could  not  keep  up  with  me,  and,  when  I  rode  a  little 
slower,  she  passed  me,  and  complained  that  I  lagged 
behind.  I  was  not  to  be  made  the  slave  of  caprice  ; 
and  I  resolved  to  begin  as  I  meant  to  end.    I  therefore 


him.  When  the  maid  descended  the  eentleman  was  ^one,  and  poor 
Mrs.  Johnson  was  much  agitated  by  the  adventure ;  it  was  the  only 
time  he  ever  made  an  effort  to  see  ber._  Dr.  Johnson  did  all  he  could 
to  console  his  wife,  but  told  Mrs.  Williams,  "  Her  son  is  uniformly 
andutirul ;  so  I  conclude,  like  many  other  sober  men,  be  might  once 
in  Us  life  be  drunk,  and  in  that  fit  nature  got  the  better  of  his  pride." ' 

The  following  anecdotes  of  Dr.  Johnson  are  recorded  by  tiie  same 
lady : — 

*  One  day  that  he  came  to  my  house  to  meet  many  others,  we  told 
him  that  we  had  arranged  our  {larty  to  go  to  Westminster  Abbey: 
would  not  he  go  with  us?  "No,"  be  replied,  "net  while  I  can  kee^ 
out." 

'  Upon  our  saying  that  the  friends  of  a  lady  had  been  in  great  fear 
lest  he  should  make  a  certain  match,  he  said.  We  that  are  hii  friends 
have  had  great  fears  for  him." 

'Dr.  Johnson's  political  principles  ran  high,  both  in  Church  and 
State  :  he  wished  power  to  the  Kinz  and  to  the  Heads  of  the  Church, 
as  the  laws  of  England  have  established ;  but  I  know  he  disliked 
absolute  power  ;  and  I  am  very  sure  of  his  disapprobation  of  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Church  of  Rome ;  because  about  three  weeks  before  we 
came  abroad  he  said  to  my  Cornelia,  "  You  are  going  where  the  osten- 
tatious pomp  of  church  ceremonies  attracts  the  imagination ;  but  if 
they  want  to  persuade  you  to  change,  you  must  remember,  that  by 
increasing  your  faith,  you  may  be  persuaded  to  become  Turk."  If 
these  were  not  the  words,  I  have  kept  up  to  the  express  meaning.' — M.] 

VOL.  I.  E 


66  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1736 

pushed  on  briskly,  till  I  was  fairly  out  of  her  sight. 
The  road  lay  between  two  hedges,  so  I  was  sure  she 
could  not  miss  it;  and  I  contrived  that  she  should 
soon  come  up  with  me.  When  she  did,  I  observed 
her  to  be  in  tears.' 

This,  it  must  be  allowed,  was  a  singular  beginning 
of  connubial  felicity ;  but  there  is  no  doubt  that  John- 
son, though  he  thus  showed  a  manly  firmness,  proved 
a  most  affectionate  and  indulgent  husband  to  the  last 
moment  of  Mrs.  Johnson's  life :  and  in  his  Prayers 
and  Meditations,  we  find  very  remarkable  evidence  that 
his  regard  and  fondness  for  her  never  ceased,  even 
after  her  death. 

He  now  set  up  a  private  academy,  for  which  purpose 
he  hired  a  large  house,  well  situated,  near  his  native 
city.  In  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  1736,  there  is 
the  following  advertisement :  *At  Edial,  near  Lichfield, 
in  Staffordshire,  young  gentlemen  are  boarded  and 
taught  the  Latin  and  Greek  languages,  by  Samuel 
Johnson.'  But  the  only  pupils  who  were  put  under  his 
care  were  the  celebrated  David  Garrick  and  his  brother 
George,  and  a  Mr.  Offely,  a  young  gentleman  of 
good  fortune,  who  died  early.  As  yet,  his  name  had 
nothing  of  that  celebrity  which  afterwards  commanded 
the  highest  attention  and  respect  of  mankind.  Had 
such  an  advertisement  appeared  after  the  publication 
of  his  London,  or  his  Rambler,  or  his  Dictionary,  how 
would  it  have  burst  upon  the  world  !  with  what  eager- 
ness would  the  great  and  the  wealthy  have  embraced 
an  opportunity  of  putting  their  sons  under  the  learned 
tuition  of  Samuel  Johnson !  The  truth,  however,  is, 
that  he  was  not  so  well  qualified  for  being  a  teacher 
of  elements  and  a  conductor  in  learning  by  regular 
gradations,  as  men  of  inferior  powers  of  mind.  His 
owj\   ^ow  acquisitions  had  been  made  by  fits  and  starts,  by 


XT.  27]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  67 

violent  irruptions  in  the  regions  of  knowledge ; 
and  it  could  not  be  expected  that  his  impatience 
would  be  subdued,  and  his  impetuosity  restrained,  so 
as  to  fit  him  for  a  quiet  guide  to  novices.  The  art  of 
communicating  instruction,  of  whatever  kind,  is  much 
to  be  valued  ;  and  I  have  ever  thought  that  those  who 
devote  themselves  to  this  employment,  and  do  their 
duty  with  diligence  and  success^  are  entitled  to  very 
high  respect  from  the  community,  as  Johnson  him- 
self often  maintained.  Yet  I  am  of  opinion,  that  the 
greatest  abilities  are  not  only  not  required  for  this 
office,  but  render  a  man  less  fit  for  it. 

While  we  acknowledge  the  justness  of  Tliomson's 
beautiful  remark, 

'  Delightful  task  !  to  rear  the  tender  thought, 
And  teach  the  young  idea  how  to  ahoot  1' 

we  must  consider  that  this  delight  is  perceptible  only 
by  'a  mind  at  ease,'  a  mind  at  once  calm  and  clear ; 
but  that  a  mind  gloomy  and  impetuous,  like  that  of 
Johnson,  cannot  be  fixed  for  any  length  of  time  in 
Vninute  attention,  and  must  be  so  frequently  irritated 
by  unavoidable  slowness  and  error  in  the  advances  of 
scholars,  as  to  perform  the  duty  with  little  pleasure 
to  the  teacher  and  no  great  advantage  to  the  pupils. 
Good  temper  is  a  most  essential  requisite  in  a  pre- 
ceptor.    Horace  paints  the  character  as  bland : 

' .  .  .  Ut  pueris  olim  dant  omstula  hlandi 
Doctores,  elementa  velint  ut  discere  primal.'— jSz^.  i.  i.  S5. 

Johnson  was  not  more  satisfied  with  his  situation  as 
the  master  of  an  academy,  than  with  that  of  the  usher 
of  a  school ;  we  need  not  wonder,  therefore,  that  he 
did  not  keep  his  academy  above  a  year  and  a  half. 


68  LIFE    OF   DR    JOHNSON        [1737 

From  Mr.  Garrick's  account  he  did  not  appear  to  have 
been  profoundly  reverenced  by  his  pupila.  Ilit  oddi- 
ties of  manner,  and  uncouth  gesticulations,  could  not 
but  be  the  subject  of  merriment  to  them  ;  and  iu  par- 
ticular, the  young  rogues  used  to  listen  at  the  door  of 
his  bed-chamber,  and  peep  through  the  key-hole,  that 
they  might  turn  into  ridicule  his  tumultuous  and 
awkward  fondness  for  Mrs.  Johnson,  whom  he  used 
to  name  by  the  familiar  appellation  of  Tetty  or  TeUey, 
which,  like  Betty  or  Betsey,  is  provincially  used  as  a 
contraction  for  Elizabeth,  her  Christian  name,  but 
which  to  us  seems  ludicrous,  when  applied  to  a  woman 
of  her  age  and  appearance.  Mr.  Garrick  described 
her  to  me  as  very  fat,  with  a  bosom  of  more  than 
ordinary  protuberance,  with  swelled  cheeks,  of  a  florid 
red,  produced  by  thick  painting,  and  increased  by  the 
liberal  use  of  cordials ;  flaring  and  fantastic  in  her 
dress,  and  affected  both  in  her  speech  and  her  general 
behaviour.  I  have  seen  Garrick  exhibit  her,  by  his 
exquisite  talent  of  mimicry,  so  as  to  excite  the 
heartiest  bursts  of  laughter ;  but  he,  probably,  as  is 
the  case  in  all  such  representations,  considerably 
aggravated  the  picture. 

That  Johnson  well  knew  the  most  proper  course  to 
be  pursued  in  the  instruction  of  youth,  is  authentically 
ascertained  by  the  following  paper  in  his  own  hand- 
writing, given  about  this  period  to  a  relation,  and  now 
in  the  possession  of  Mr.  John  Nichols : 

Scheme  for  the  Classes  of  a  Grammar  School 

'When  the  introduction  or  formation  of  nouns  and  verbs 
is  perfectly  mastered,  let  them  learn 
'  Corderius,  hy  Sir.  Clarke ;  b^inning  at  the  same  time  to 


;et.  28]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  69 

translate  oat  of  the  introduction,  that  by  this  means  thoy 
may  learn  the  syntax.    Then  let  them  proceed  to 

*  Erasmns,  with  an  English  translation,  by  the  same  author. 
'Class  n. — Learn Eutropius  and  Cornelius  Nepos,  or  Justin, 

with  the  translation. 

'N.B. — The  first  class  gets  for  their  part  every  morning  the 
roles  which  they  have  learned  before,  and  in  the  afternoon 
learns  the  Latin  rules  of  the  nouns  and  verbs. 

'  They  are  examined  in  the  roles  which  they  have  learned 
every  Thursday  and  Saturday. 

'The  second  class  does  the  same  whilst  they  are  in 
Eutropius ;  afterwards  their  part  is  in  the  irregular  noims  and 
verbs,  and  in  the  rules  for  making  and  scanning  verses.  They 
are  examined  as  the  first. 

'Class  in. — Ovid's  Metamorphosea  in  the  morning,  and 
Csesar's  Commentariei  in  the  afternoon. 

'  Practice  in  the  Latin  rules  till  they  are  perfect  in  them ; 
afterwards  in  Mr.  Leed's  Greek  Grammar.  Examined  as 
before. 

'Afterwards  they  proceed  to  Virgil,  banning  at  the  same 
time  to  write  themes  and  verses,  and  to  learn  Greek :  from 
thence  passing  on  to  Horace,  etc.,  as  shall  seem  proper. 

*  I  know  not  well  what  books  to  direct  you  to,  because  yoo 
have  not  informed  me  what  study  you  will  apply  yourself  ta 

X  I  believe  it  will  be  most  for  your  advantage  to  apply  yourself 
wholly  to  the  languages,  till  you  go  to  the  university.    The 
Greek  authors  I  think  it  best  for  you  to  read  are  these : 
'Cebes. 
•iElianu  "J 

*  Lucian  by  Leeds.  >  Attic. 
'  Xenophon.                     J 

'  Homer.  Ionic. 

'  Theocritus,  Doric 

'  Euripides.  Attic  and  Doric. 

'  Thus  you  will  be  tolerably  skilled  in  all  the  dialects,  be- 
ginning with  the  Attic,  to  which  the  rest  must  be  referred. 

'  In  the  study  of  Latin,  it  is  proper  not  to  read  the  latter 
authors,  till  you  are  well  versed  in  those  of  the  purest  ages ; 
as  Terence,  Tolly,  Csesar,  Sallust,  Nepos,  Velleius  Pateroulos, 
"Virgil,  Horace,  Fhsedrus. 


70  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1737 

*The  greatest  and  most  necessary  task  still  remains,  to 
attain  a  habit  of  expression,  without  which  knowledge  is  of 
little  use.  This  is  neoessary  in  Latin,  and  more  neocMary  in 
English ;  and  can  only  be  acquired  by  a  daily  imitation  of  the 
best  and  correctest  authors.  Sam.  Jomrson.* 

While  Johnson  kept  his  academy,  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  he  was  insensibly  furnishing  his  mind  with 
various  knowledge ;  but  I  have  not  discovered  that  he 
wrote  anything  except  a  great  part  of  his  tragedy  of 
Irene.  Mr.  Peter  Garrick,  the  elder  brother  of 
David,  told  me  that  he  remembered  Johnson's  bor- 
rowing the  Turkish  History  of  him,  in  order  to  form 
his  play  from  it.  When  he  had  finished  some  part  of 
it,  he  read  what  he  had  done  to  Mr.  Walmsley,  who 
objected  to  his  having  already  brought  his  heroine 
into  great  distress,  and  asked  him,  *  How  can  you 
possibly  contrive  to  plunge  her  into  deeper  calamity  ? ' 
Johnson,  in  sly  allusion  to  the  .supposed  oppressive 
proceedings  of  the  court  of  which  Mr.  Walmsley  was 
registrar,  replied,  '  Sir,  I  can  put  her  into  the  Spiritual 
Court ! ' 

Mr.  Walmsley,  however,  was  well  pleased  with  this 
proof  of  Johnson's  abilities  as  a  dramatic  writer,  and 
advised  him  to  finish  the  tragedy,  and  produce  it  on 
the  stage. 

Johnson  now  thought  of  trying  his  fortune  in 
London,  the  great  field  of  genius  and  exertion,  where 
talents  of  every  kind  have  the  fullest  scope  and  the 
highest  encouragement  It  is  a  memorable  circum- 
stance that  his  pupil  David  Garrick  went  thither  at 
the  same  time,^  with  intent  to  complete  his  education, 

1  Both  of  them  used_  to  talk  pleasantly  of  this  their  first  journey  to 
London.  Garrick,  evidently  meaning  to  embellish  a  little,  said  one 
day  in  my  bearing,  '  we  rode  and  tied.'    And  the  Bishop  of  Killaloe 


iET.  28]     LIFE   OF    DR.    JOHNSON  71 

and  follow  the  profession  of  the  law,  from  which  he  was 
soon  diverted  by  his  decided  preference  for  the  stage. 

This  joint  expedition  of  those  two  eminent  men  to 
the  metropolis  was  many  years  afterwards  noticed  in 
an  allegorical  poem  on  Shakespeare's  mulberry  tree,  by 
Mr.  Lovibond,  the  ingenious  author  of  The  Tears  of 
Old  May-Day. 

They  were  recommended  to  Mr.  Colson,^  an  emi- 
nent mathematician  and  master  of  an  academy^  by  the 
following  letter  from  Mr.  Walmsley : — 

TO  THE  REV.    MR.   COISOS 

•  Lichfield,  March  12, 1737. 

*DiAB  Sea, — I  had  the  favour  of  jours,  and  am  extremely 
obliged  to  you ;  but  I  cannot  say  I  had  a  greater  affection  for 
you  upon  it  than  I  had  before,  being  long  since  so  much 
endeared  to  you,  as  well  as  by  an  early  friendship,  as  by  your 
many  excellent  and  valuable  qualifications ;  and,  had  I  a  son 
of  my  own,  it  would  be  my  ambition,  instead  of  sending  him 
to  the  university,  to  disjwse  of  him  as  this  young  gentleman  is. 

'He,  and  another  neighbour  of   mine,   one  Mr.   Samuel 

n>r.  Barnard)  informed  me,  that  at  another  time,  when  Johnson  and 
Garrick  were  dining^  together  in  a  pretty  large  company,  Johnson 
humorously  ascertaining  the  chronology  of  something,  expressed  him- 
self thus  :  ^  That  was  tne  year  when  1  came  to  London  with  twopence 
halfpenny  in  my  pocket.'  Garrick  overhearing  him,  exclaimed,  '  £h  ? 
what  do  you  say?  with  twopence  halfpenny  in  your  pocket?' — John- 
son: '\Vny,  yes:  when  I  came  with  twopence  halfpenny  in  my 
pocket,  and  thou,  Davy,  with  three  halfpence  in  thine.' 

1  [The  Reverend  John  Colson  was  bred  at  Emmanuel  College  in 
Cambridge,  and  in  1738,  when  George  the  Second  visited  that  Uni- 
versity, was  created  Master  of  Arts.  About  that  time  he  became  First 
Master  of  the  Free  School  at  Rochester,  founded  by  Sir  Joseph 
Williamson.  In  1739,  he  was  appointed  Lucasian  Professor  of  Mathe- 
matics in  the  Universitj'  of  Cambridge,  on  the  death  of  Professor 
Sanderson,  and  held  that  office  till  1759,  when  he  died.  He  published 
Lectures  on  Experimental  Philosophy^  translated  from  the  French  of 
TAbb^  Nodetj  8vo,  1732,  and  some  other  tracts.  Our  author,  it  is  be- 
lieved, was  mistaken  in  stating  him  to  have  been  master  of  an  AcademY* 
Garrick,  probably,  during  bis  short  residence  at  Rochester,  lived  in  ms 
house  as  a  private  pupil. 

The  character  of  Gelidus,  the  philosopher,  in  the  Rambler  (No.  34), 
was  meant  to  represent  this  gentleman.  See  Mrs.  Pioad's  Antcdotes 
etc.,  p.  444. — M.] 


72  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1737 

Johnson,  set  out  this  morning  for  London  together.  Dmry 
Garrick  is  to  be  with  you  early  the  next  week,  and  Mr.  Johnson 
to  try  his  fate  with  ft  tragedy,  and  to  see  to  get  himself 
employed  in  some  translation,  either  from  the  Latin  or  the 
French.  Johnson  is  a  very  good  scholar  and  poet,  and  I  have 
great  hopes  will  turn  out  a  fine  tragedy-writer.  If  it  should 
any  way  lie  in  your  way,  I  doubt  not  but  you  would  be  ready 
to  recommend  and  assist  your  countryman, 

'  O.  Wai.mk.xt.' 

How  he  employed  himself  upon  his  first  coming  to 
London  is  not  particularly  known.  ^  I  never  heard 
that  he  found  any  protection  or  encouragement  by 
the  means  of  Mr.  Colson,  to  whose  academy  David 
Garrick  went  Mrs.  Lucy  Porter  told  me  that  Mr. 
Walmsley  gave  him  a  letter  of  introduction  to  Lintot 
his  bookseller^  and  that  Johnson  wrote  some  things 
for  him  ;  but  I  imagine  this  to  be  a  mistake,  for  I  have 
discovered  no  trace  of  it,  and  I  am  pretty  sure  he  told 
me  that  Mr.  Cave  was  the  first  publisher  by  whom  his 
pen  was  engaged  in  London. 

He  had  a  little  money  when  he  came  to  town,  and 
he  knew  how  he  could  live  in  the  cheapest  manner. 
His  first  lodgings  were  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Norris,  a 
stay-maker,  in  Exeter  Street,  adjoining  Catharine 
Street  in  the  Strand.  '  I  dined  (said  he)  very  well  for 
eightpence,  with  very  good  company,  at  the  Pine 
Apple  in  New  Street,  just  by.  Several  of  them  had 
travelled.  They  expected  to  meet  every  day ;  but  did 
not  know  one  another's  names.  It  used  to  cost  the 
rest  a  shilling,  for  they  drank  wine  ;  but  I  had  a  cut 

^  One  curious  anecdote  was  communicated  by  himself  to  Mr.  John 
Nichols.  Mr.  Wilcox,  the  bookseller,  on  being  informed  by  him  that 
his  intention  was  to  get  his  livelihood  as  an  author,  eyed  his  robust 
frame  attentively,  and  with  a  significant  look,  said,  '  You  had  better 
buy  a  porter's  knot.'  He  however  added,  '  Wilcox  was  one  of  my  best 
friends.' 


;et.  28]    LIFE   OF  DR.    JOHNSON  73 

of  meat  for  sixpence,  and  bread  for  a  penny,  and  gave 
the  waiter  a  penny ;  so  that  I  was  quite  well  served, 
nay,  better  than  the  rest,  for  they  gave  the  waiter 
nothing.' 

He  at  this  time,  I  believe,  abstained  entirely  from 
fermented  liquors ;  a  practice  to  which  he  rigidly 
conformed  for  many  years  together,  at  different  periods 
of  his  life. 

His  Ofellus,  in  the  Art  of  Living  in  London,  I  have 
heard  him  relate,  was  an  Irish  painter,  whom  he  knew 
at  Birmingham,  and  who  had  practised  his  own  pre- 
cepts of  economy  for  several  years  in  the  British 
capital.  He  assured  Johnson,  who,  I  suppose,  was 
then  meditating  to  try  his  fortune  in  London,  but  was 
apprehensive  of  the  expense,  '  that  thirty  pounds  a 
year  was  enough  to  enable  a  man  to  live  there  without 
being  contemptible.  He  allowed  ten  pounds  for 
clothes  and  linen.  He  said  a  man  might  live  in  a 
garret  at  eighteenpence  a  week ;  few  people  would 
inquire  where  he  lodged  ;  and  if  they  did,  it  was  easy 
to  say,  "Sir,  I  am  to  be  found  at  such  a  place."  By 
spending  threepence  in  a  coffee-house,  he  might  be 
for  some  hours  every  day  in  very  good  company  ;  he 
might  dine  for  sixpence,  breakfast  on  bread  and  milk 
for  a  penny,  and  do  without  supper.  On  clean  shirt- 
day  he  went  abroad,  and  paid  visits.'  I  have  heard 
him  more  than  once  talk  of  his  frugal  friend,  whom  he 
recollected  with  esteem  and  kindness,  and  did  not  like 
to  have  one  smile  at  the  recital.  '  This  man  (said 
he  gravely)  was  a  very  sensible  man,  who  perfectly 
understood  common  affairs :  a  man  of  a  great  deal  of 
knowledge  of  the  world,  fresh  from  life,  not  strained 
through  books.     He  borrowed  a  horse  and  ten  pounds 


74  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1737 

at  Birmingham.  Finding  himself  master  of  so  much 
money,  he  set  off  for  West  Chester,  in  order  to  get  to 
Ireland.  He  returned  the  horse,  and  probably  the  ten 
pounds  too,  after  he  got  home.' 

Considering  Johnson's  narrow  circumstances  in  the 
early  part  of  his  life,  and  particularly  at  the  interest- 
ing era  of  his  launching  into  the  ocean  of  London,  it 
is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  that  an  actual  instance, 
proved  by  experience,  of  the  possibility  of  enjoying 
the  intellectual  luxury  of  social  life  upon  a  very  small 
income,  should  deeply  engage  his  attention,  and  be 
ever  recollected  by  him  as  a  circumstance  of  much 
importance.  He  amused  himself,  I  remember,  by 
computing  how  much  more  expense  was  absolutely 
necessary  to  live  upon  the  same  scale  with  that  which 
his  friend  described,  when  the  value  of  money  was 
diminished  by  the  progress  of  commerce.  It  may  be 
estimated  that  double  the  money  might  now  with 
difficulty  be  sufficient 

Amidst  this  cold  obscurity,  there  was  one  brilliant 
circumstance  to  cheer  him ;  he  was  well  acquainted 
with  Mr.  Henry  Hervey,^  one  of  the  branches  of  the 
noble  family  of  that  name,  who  had  been  quartered  at 
Lichfield  as  an  officer  of  the  army,  and  had  at  this  time 
a  house  in  London,  where  Johnson  was  frequently 


1  The  Honourable  Henry  Hervey,  third  son  of  the  first  Elarl  of 
Bristol,  quitted  the  army,  and  took  orders.  He  married  a  sister  of  Sir 
Thomas  Aston,  by  whom  he  got  the  Aston  estate,  and  assumed  the 
name  and  arms  of  that  family.     Vide  CoUins's  Peerage. 

[The  Hon.  Henry  Hervey  was  nearly  of  the  same  age  with  Johnson, 
having  been  bom  about  nine  months  before  him,  in  the  year  1709.  He 
married  Catharine,  the  sister  of  Sir  Thomas  Aston,  in  1739 ;  and  as 
that  lady  had  seven  sisters,  she  probably  succeeded  to  the  Aston  estate 
on  the  death  of  her  brother  under  his  will.  Mr.  Hervey  took  the 
degree  of  Master  of  Arts  at_  Cambridge,  at  the  late  a^e  of  thirty-five, 
in  1744  ;  about  which  time,  it  is  believed,  he  entered  into  holy  orders. 


iET.  28]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  75 

entertained,  and  had  an  opportunity  of  meeting  gen- 
teel company.  Not  very  long  before  his  death,  he 
mentioned  this,  among  other  particulars  of  his  life, 
which  he  was  kindly  communicating  to  me ;  and  he 
described  this  early  friend,  *  Harry  Hervey,'  thus: 
'  He  was  a  vicious  man,  but  very  kind  to  me.  If  you 
call  a  dog  Hervey,  I  shall  love  him.' 

He  told  me  he  had  now  written  only  three  acts  of 
his  Irene,  and  that  he  retired  for  some  time  to  lodg- 
ings at  Greenwich,  where  he  proceeded  in  it  some- 
what further,  and  used  to  compose,  walking  in  the 
Park ;  but  did  not  stay  long  enough  at  that  place  to 
finish  it 

At  this  period  we  find  the  following  letter  from  him 
to  Mr.  Edward  Cave,  which,  as  a  link  in  the  chain  of 
his  literary  history,  it  is  proper  to  insert : 

ro   HR.  CAVE 

*  Oreenteich,  next  door  to  the  OoMen  Heart, 
Church  Street,  July  12,  1737. 

*SiB, — Having  observed  in  your  papers  very  tmconimon 
offers  of  encouragement  to  men  of  letters,  I  have  chosen, 
being  a  stranger  in  London,  to  communicate  to  you  the 
following  design,  which,  I  hope,  if  you  join  in  it,  will  be  of 
Advantage  to  both  of  us. 

*The  History  of  the  Council  of  Trent  having  been  lately 
translated  into  French,  and  published  with  large  Notes  by 
Dr.  Le  Courayer,  the  reputation  of  that  book  is  so  much 
revived  in  England,  that,  it  is  presumed,  a  new  translation  of 
it  from  the  Italian,  together  with  Le  Courayer's  Notes  from 
the  French,  could  not  fail  of  a  favourable  reception. 

'  If  it  be  answered,  that  the  History  is  already  in  English, 
it  must  be  remembered  that  there  was  the  same  objection 
against  Le  Courayer's  undertaking,  with  this  disadvantage, 
that  the  French  had  a  version  by  one  of  their  best  translators, 
whereas  you  cannot  read  three  pages  of  the  English  History 


76  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1737 

without  discovering  that  the  style  is  capable  of  great  improve- 
ments ;  but  whether  those  improvements  are  to  be  ezi)eoted 
from  the  attempt,  jou  must  judge  from  the  specimen  which, 
if  you  approve  the  proposal,  I  shall  submit  to  your  examina- 
tion. 

'Suppose  the  merit  of  the  versions  equal,  we  may  hope 
that  the  addition  of  the  Notes  will  turn  the  bcdanoe  in  our 
favour,  considering  the  reputation  of  the  annotator. 

'  Be  pleased  to  favour  me  with  a  speedy  answer,  if  you  ar» 
not  willing  to  engage  in  this  scheme ;  and  appoint  me  a  day 
to  wait  upon  you,  if  you  are.    I  am,  sir,  your  humble  servant* 

'Sax.  JoBvaov.' 


It  should  seem  from  this  letter,  though  subscribed 
with  his  own  name,  that  he  had  not  yet  been  introduced 
to  Mr.  Cave.  We  shall  presently  see  what  was  done 
in  consequence  of  the  proposal  which  it  contains. 

In  the  course  of  the  summer  he  returned  to  Lich- 
field, where  he  had  left  Mrs.  Johnson,  and  there  he  at 
last  finished  his  tragedy,  which  was  not  executed  with 
his  rapidity  of  composition  upon  other  occasions,  but 
was  slowly  and  painfully  elaborated.  A  few  days  before 
his  deaths  while  burning  a  great  mass  of  papers,  he 
picked  out  from  among  them  the  original  unformad 
sketch  of  this  tragedy,  in  his  own  handwriting,  and 
gave  it  to  Mr.  Lang^on,  by  whose  favour  a  copy  of  it 
is  now  in  my  possession.  It  contains  fragments  of  the 
intended  plot,  and  speeches  for  the  different  persons  of 
the  drama,  partly  in  the  raw  materials  of  prose,  partly 
worked  up  into  verse ;  as  also  a  variety  of  hints  for 
illustration,  borrowed  from  the  Greek,  Roman,  and 
modern  writers.  The  handwriting  is  very  difficult  to 
be  read,  even  by  those  who  are  best  acquainted  with 
Johnson's  mode  of  penmanship,  which  at  all  times  was 
very  particular.     The  King  having  graciously  accepted 


iET.  28]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  77 

of  this  manuscript  as  a  literary  curiosity,  Mr.  Langton 
made  a  fair  and  distinct  copy  of  it,  which  he  ordered 
to  be  bound  up  with  the  original  and  the  printed 
tragedy ;  and  the  volume  is  deposited  in  the  King's 
library.  His  Majesty  was  pleased  to  permit  Mr. 
Langton  to  take  a  copy  of  it  for  himself. 

The  whole  of  it  is  rich  in  thought  and  imagery,  and 
happy  expressions ;  and  of  the  disjecta  membra  scat- 
tered throughout,  and  as  yet  unarranged,  a  good 
dramatic  poet  might  avail  himself  with  considerable 
advantage.  I  shall  give  my  readers  some  specimens 
of  different  kinds,  distinguishing  them  by  the  Italic 
character. 

'  Nor  think  to  say  here  trill  I  $top. 
Here  will  I  fix  the  limits  of  transgression, 
Jior  farther  tempt  the  avenging  rage  of  heaven. 
When  guilt  like  this  once  harbours  «n  (he  breatt. 
Those  holy  beings,  whose  unseen  direction 
Guides  through  the  maze  of  life  the  steps  of  man. 
Fly  the  detested  mansions  of  impiety. 
And  quit  their  charge  to  horror  and  to  ruin.' 

A  small  part  only  of  this  interesting  admonition  is 
preserved  in  the  play,  and  is  varied,  I  think,  not  to 
advantage : 

*  The  soul  once  tainted  with  bo  foul  a  crime, 
No  more  shall  glow  with  friendship's  hallow'd  ardour : 
Those  holy  beings,  whose  superior  caru 
Guides  erring  mortads  to  the  paths  of  virtue. 
Affrighted  at  impiety  like  thine, 
Resign  their  charge  to  baseness  and  to  ruin.' 

'  I  feel  the  soft  infection 
Flush  in  my  cheek,  and  wander  in  my  veins. 
Teach  me  the  Orecian  art  of  soft  persuasion.* 


78  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1737 

'  Sure  thii  it  love,  vhieh  heretofore  I  conceived  the  dream  of 
idU  maidi,  and  wanton  poett.' 

'  Thouffh  no  eometa  or  prodiffieM  foretold  the  rum  of  Orteee^ 
tignt  vhieh  heaven  mutt  by  another  mirade  enable  ua  to 
underttand,  yet  might  it  he  foreshown,  by  tokens  no  leu 
certain,  by  the  vices  which  always  bring  it  on,' 

This  last  passage  is  worked  up  in  the  tragedy  itself, 
AS  follows : 

1.BONTIU8 
'That  power  that  kindly  spreads 
The  clouds,  a  signal  of  impending  showen, 
To  warn  the  wand'ring  linnet  to  the  shade. 
Beheld,  without  concern,  expiring  Greece, 
And  not  one  prodigy,  foretold  our  fate. 

DEHKinnra 
A  thousand  horrid  prodigies  foretold  it ; 
A  feeble  government,  eluded  laws, 
A  factious  populace,  luxurious  nobles, 
And  all  the  maladies  of  sinking  states. 
When  public  villany,  too  strong  for  jostice. 
Shows  his  bold  front,  the  harbinger  of  ruin. 
Can  brave  Leontius  call  for  airy  wonders, 
Which  cheats  interpret,  and  which  fools  regard  ? 
When  some  neglected  fabric  nods  beneath 
The  weight  of  years,  and  totters  to  the  tempest. 
Must  heaven  despatch  the  messengers  of  light. 
Or  wake  the  dead,  to  warn  us  of  its  fall  ? ' 

MAHOMET  {to  IRENe) 

*7  have  tried  thee,  and  joy  to  find  that  thou  deservest  to  be 
loved  by  Mahomet, — vnth  a  mind  great  as  his  own.  Sure, 
thou  art  an  error  of  nature,  and  an  exception  to  the  rest  of 
thy  sex,  and  art  immortal;  for  sentiments  like  thine  were 
never  to  sink  into  nothing.  I  thought  all  the  thoughts  of  the 
fair  had  been  to  select  the  graces  of  the  day,  dispose  the  colours 
of  the  flaunting  {flovnng)  robe,  tune  the  voice  a/nd  roll  the  eye, 
place  the  gem,  choose  the  dress,  and  add  new  roses  to  the  fading 
cheek,  but — sparkling.' 


iET.  28]    LIFE   OF  DR.    JOHNSON  79 

Thus  in  the  tragedy : 

'  niuBtrioiu  maid,  new  wonders  fix  me  thine ; 
Thy  aoul  completes  the  triumphs  of  thy  face ; 
I  thought,  forgive,  my  fair,  the  noblest  aim. 
The  strongest  effort  of  a  female  soul 
Was  but  to  choose  the  graces  of  the  day, 
To  tune  the  tongue,  to  teach  the  eyes  to  roll, 
Dispose  the  colours  of  the  flowing  robe. 
And  add  new  roses  to  the  faded  cheek.' 

I  shall  select  one  other  passage,  on  account  of  tlie 
doctrine  which  it  illustrates.     Irene  observes, 

'  That  the  Supreme  Being  vnll  accept  of  virtxie,  tohatever 
outward  eiroumttanees  it  may  be  accompanied  vnth,  and  may 
be  delighted  with  varieties  of  worship;  but  is  answered. 
That  variety  cannot  affect  that  Being,  who,  ifsfinitely  happy 
in  hit  own  perfections,  wants  no  external  gratifications;  nor 
can  infinite  truth  be  delighted  with  falsehood;  that  though  he 
may  guide  or  pity  those  he  leaves  in  darkness,  he  abandons 
those  who  shiU  their  eyes  against  the  beams  of  day.* 

Johnson's  residence  at  Lichfield,  on  his  return  to  it 
at  this  time,  was  only  for  three  months;  and  as  he  had 
as  yet  seen  but  a  small  part  of  the  wonders  of  the 
k  4, jnetropolis,  he  had  little  to  tell  his  townsmen.  He 
related  to  me  the  following  minute  anecdote  of  this 
period  : — '  In  the  last  age,  when  my  mother  lived  in 
London,  there  were  two  sets  of  people,  those  who 
gave  the  wall,  and  those  who  took  it ;  the  peaceable 
and  the  quarrelsome.  When  I  returned  to  Lichfield, 
after  having  been  in  London,  my  mother  asked  me, 
whether  I  was  one  of  those  who  gave  the  wall,  or 
those  who  took  it  Now  it  is  fixed  that  every  man 
keeps  to  the  right ;  or,  if  one  is  taking  the  wall, 
another  yields  it ;  and  it  is  never  a  dispute.'^ 

1  Jeurruxl  of  a  Tour  to  the  Htbridts,  3rd  edit.,  p.  232. 


80  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1737 

He  now  removed  to  London  with  Mrs.  Johnson : 
but  her  daughter,  who  had  lived  with  them  at  Edial, 
was  left  with  her  relations  iu  the  country.  His  lodg- 
ings were  for  some  time  in  Woodstock  Street,  near 
Hanover  Square,  and  afterwards  in  Castle  Street,  near 
Cavendish  Square.  As  there  is  something  pleasingly 
interesting,  to  many,  in  tracing  so  great  a  man  through 
all  his  different  habitations,  I  shall,  before  this  work 
is  concluded,  present  my  readers  with  an  exact  list  of 
his  lodgings  and  houses,  in  order  of  time,  which,  in 
placid  condescension  to  my  respectful  curiosity,  he 
one  evening  dictated  to  me,  but  without  specifying 
how  long  he  lived  at  each.  In  the  progress  of  his  life 
I  shall  have  occasion  to  mention  some  of  them  as  con- 
nected with  particular  incidents,  or  with  the  writing  of 
particular  parts  of  his  works.  To  some  this  minute 
attention  may  appear  trifling ;  but  when  we  consider 
the  punctilious  exactness  with  which  the  different 
houses  in  which  Milton  resided  have  been  traced  by 
the  writers  of  his  life,  a  similar  enthusiasm  may  be 
pardoned  in  the  biographer  of  Johnson. 

His  tragedy  being  by  this  time,  as  he  thought,  com- 
pletely finished  and  fit  for  the  stage,  he  was  very 
desirous  that  it  should  be  brought  forward.  Mr. 
Peter  Garrick  told  me  that  Johnson  and  he  went 
together  to  the  Fountain  Tavern,  and  read  it  over, 
and  that  he  afterwards  solicited  Mr.  Fleetwood,  the 
patentee  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  to  have  it  acted  at 
his  house  ;  but  Mr.  Fleetwood  would  not  accept  it, 
probably  because  it  was  not  patronised  by  some  man 
of  high  rank ;  and  it  was  not  acted  till  1749,  when  his 
friend,  David  Garrick,  was  manager  of  that  theatre. 

The  Gentleman's  Magazine^  begun  and  carried  on 


iET.  28]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON  81 

by  Mr.  Edward  Cave,  under  the  name  of  Sylvanus 
Urban,  had  attracted  the  notice  and  esteem  of  John- 
son, in  an  eminent  degree,  before  he  came  to  London 
as  an  adventurer  in  literature.  He  told  me  that  when 
he  first  saw  St.  John's  Gate,  the  place  where  that 
deservedly  popular  miscellany  was  originally  printed, 
he  'beheld  it  with  reverence.'  I  suppose,  indeed,  that 
every  young  author  has  had  the  same  kind  of  feeling 
for  the  magazine  or  periodical  publication  which  has 
first  entertained  him,  and  in  which  he  has  first  had  an 
opportunity  to  see  himself  in  print,  without  the  risk 
of  exposing  his  name.  I  m}'self  recollect  such  impres- 
sions from  The  Scots  Magazine,  which  was  begun  at 
Edinburgh  in  the  year  1739,  and  has  been  ever  con- 
ducted with  judgment,  accuracy,  and  propriety.  I 
yet  cannot  help  thinking  of  it  with  an  affectionate 
regard.  Johnson  has  digfnified  the  Gentleman's 
Magazine,  by  the  importance  with  which  he  invests 
the  life  of  Cave ;  but  he  has  given  it  still  greater 
lustre  by  the  various  admirable  essays  which  he  wrote 
for  it. 

Though  Johnson  was  often  solicited  by  his  friends 
to  make  a  complete  list  of  his  writings,  and  talked  of 
doing  it,  I  believe  with  a  serious  intention  that  they 
should  all  be  collected  on  his  own  account,  he  put  it 
off  from  year  to  year,  and  at  last  died  without  having 
done  it  perfectly.  I  have  one  in  his  own  handwriting 
which  contains  a  certain  number  ;  I  indeed  doubt  if 
he  could  have  remembered  every  one  of  them,  as  they 
were  so  numerous,  so  various,  and  scattered  in  such  a 
multiplicity  of  unconnected  publications ;  nay,  several 
of  them  published  under  the  names  of  other  persons, 
to  whom  he  liberally  contributed  from  the  abundance 

YOU   I.  F 


82  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1738 

of  his  mind.  We  must,  therefore,  be  content  to 
discover  them,  partly  from  occasional  information 
given  by  him  to  his  friends,  and  partly  from  internal 
evidence. 

His  first  performance  in  the  Gentleman't  Magazine, 
which  for  many  years  was  his  principal  source  for 
employment  and  support,  was  a  copy  of  Latin  venea, 
in  March  1738,  addressed  to  the  editor  in  so  happy  a 
style  of  compliment,  that  Cave  must  have  been  desti- 
tute both  of  taste  and  sensibility,  had  he  not  felt 
himself  highly  gratified. 

Ad  Urbanum 

Urbane,  nollis  fease  laboribua. 

Urbane,  nullis  victe  calumniis, 

Cui  fronte  sertum  in  eradita 

Ferpetuo  viret  et  virebit ; 

Quid  moliator  gens  imitantium. 
Quid  et  minetur,  solicitus  panun, 
Yacare  soils  perge  Mosis, 
Joxta  amimo  studiisqae  felix. 

Linguae  procasis  plumbea  spicula, 
Fidens,  superbo  f  range  silentio ; 
Yictrix  per  obstantes  catervas 
Sedulitas  animosa  tendet . 

Intende  nervos,  fortis,  inanibns 
Bisurua  olim  nisibus  semuli ; 
Intende  jam  nervos,  habebis 
Participes  operse  Camoenas. 

Non  uUa  Musis  pagina  gratior, 
Quam  quae  severis  ludicra  jungere 
Novit,  fatigatamque  nugis 
Utilibus  recreare  mentem. 


iET.  29]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  83 

Texente  Nymphis  serta  Ljcoride, 
Bomb  raborem  sio  viola  adjuvat 
Immista,  no  Iria  refulget 
^thereifl  variata  fuoiB.^       S.  J. 

It  appears  that  he  was  now  enlisted  by  Mr.  Cave 
as  a  regular  coadjutor  in  his  magazine,  by  which  he 


*  A  tnmslation  of  this  Ode.  by  an  anknown  correspondent,  appeared 
in  the  Magazine  for  the  monto  of  May  following : — 

'  Hail  Urban  1  indefatigable  man 
Unwearied  yet  by  all  thy  useful  toil  I 

Whom  ntun'rous  slanderers  assault  in  vaio  ; 
Whom  no  base  calumny  can  put  to  foil. 

But  still  the  laurel  on  thy  leamM  brow 

Flourishes  fair,  and  shall  for  ever  grow. 

AVhat  mean  the  servile  imitating  crew, 
What  their  vain  blust'ring  and  their  empty  noise, 

Ne'er  seek  :  but  still  thy  noble  ends  pursue, 
Unconquer'd  by  the  rabble's  venal  voice. 

Still  to  the  Muse  thy  studious  mind  apply, 

Happy  in  temper  as  in  industry. 

The  senseless  sneerings  of  a  haughty  tongue. 
Unworthy  thy  attention  to  engage. 

Unheeded  pass :  and  though  they  mean  thee  wrong, 
By  manly  silence  disappoint  their  rage. 

Assiduous  diligence  confounds  its  foes, 
^  Resistless,  though  malicious  crowds  oppose. 

Exert  thy  powers,  nor  slacken  in  the  course, 
Thy  spotless  fame  shall  quash  all  false  reports  : 

Exert  thy  powers,  nor  fear  a  rival's  force, 
But  thou  shalt  smile  at  all  his  vain  efforts ; 

Thy  labours  shall  be  crown'd  with  large  success ; 

The  Muses'  aid  thy  Magazine  shall  bless. 

No  page  more  prateful  to  th'  harmonious  Nine 
Than  that  wherem  thy  labours  we  survey ; 

Where  solemn  themes  in  fuller  splendour  shine, 
(Delightful  mixture),  blended  with  the  gay. 

Where  in  improving,  various  joys  we  find, 

A  welcome  respite  to  the  wearied  mind. 

Thns  when  the  nymphs  in  some  fair  verdant  mead, 
Of  various  flowers  a  beauteous  wreath  compose, 

The  lovely  violet's  azure-painted  head 
Adds  lustre  to  the  crimson-blushing  rose. 

Thus  splendid  Iris,  with  her  varied  dye. 

Shines  in  the  sether,  and  adorns  the  sky.' — Britoh. 


84  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1738 

probably  obtained  a  tolerable  livelihood.  At  what 
time,  or  by  what  means,  he  had  acquired  a  competent 
knowledge  both  of  French  and  Italian,  I  do  not  know ; 
but  he  was  so  well  skilled  in  them  as  to  be  sufficiently 
qualified  for  a  translator.  That  part  of  his  labour 
which  consisted  in  emendation  and  improvement  of 
the  productions  of  other  contributors,  like  that  em- 
ployed in  levelling  ground,  can  be  perceived  only 
by  those  who  had  an  opportunity  of  comparing  the 
original  with  the  altered  copy.  What  we  certainly 
know  to  have  been  done  by  him  in  this  way  was  the 
Debates  in  both  Houses  of  Parliament,  under  the 
name  of  'The  Senate  of  Lilliput,'  sometimes  with 
feigned  denominations  of  the  several  speakers,  some- 
times with  denominations  formed  of  Uie  letters  of 
their  real  names,  in  the  manner  of  what  is  called 
anagram,  so  that  they  might  easily  be  deciphered. 
Parliament  then  kept  the  press  in  a  kind  of  mysterious 
awe,  which  made  it  necessary  to  have  recourse  to  such 
devices.  In  our  time  it  has  acquired  an  unrestrained 
freedom,  so  that  the  people  in  all  parts  of  the  kingdom 
have  a  fair,  open,  and  exact  report  of  the  actual  pro- 
ceedings of  their  representatives  and  legislators,  which 
in  our  constitution  is  highly  to  be  valued ;  though, 
unquestionably,  there  has  of  late  been  too  much 
reason  to  complain  of  the  petulance  with  which  ob- 
scure scribblers  have  presumed  to  treat  men  of  the 
most  respectable  character  and  situation. 

This  important  article  of  the  Gentleman'^  Magazine 
was,  for  several  years,  executed  by  Mr.  WUliam 
Guthrie,  a  man  who  deserves  to  be  respectably  re- 
corded in  the  literary  annals  of  this  country.  He 
was  descended  of  an  ancient  family  in  Scotland  ;  but 


;et.  29]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON  86 

having  a  small  patrimony,  and  being  an  adherent  of 
the  unfortunate  house  of  Stuart,  he  could  not  accept 
of  any  office  in  the  State ;  he  therefore  came  to 
London,  and  employed  his  talents  and  learning  as  au 
'Author  by  profession.'  His  writings  in  history, 
criticism,  and  politics,  had  considerable  merit. ^  He 
was  the  first  English  historian  who  had  recourse  to 
that  authentic  source  of  information,  the  Parlia- 
mentary Journals ;  and  such  was  the  power  of  his 
political  pen,  that,  at  an  early  period.  Government 
thought  it  worth  their  while  to  keep  it  quiet  by  a 
pension,  which  he  enjoyed  till  his  death.  Johnson 
esteemed  him  enough  to  wish  that  his  life  should  be 
written.  The  debates  in  Parliament,  which  were 
brought  home  and  digested  by  Guthrie,  whose  me- 
mory, though  surpassed  by  others  who  have  since 
followed  him  in  the  same  department,  was  yet  very 
quick  and  tenacious,  were  sent  by  Cave  to  Johnson 
for  his  revision ;  and  after  some  time,  when  Guthrie 
had  attained  to  greater  variety  of  employment,  and 
the  speeches  were  more  and  more  enriched  by  the 
'Accession  of  Johnson's  genius,  it  was  resolved  that  he 
should  do  the  whole  himself,  from  the  scanty  notes 
furnished  by  persons  employed  to  attend  in  both 
Houses  of  Parliament.  Sometimes,  however,  as  he 
himself  told  me,  he  had  nothing  more  communicated 
to  him  than  the  names  of  the  several  speakers,  and 
the  part  which  they  had  taken  in  the  debate.' 

1  How  much  poetry  he  wrote  I  know  not :  but  he  informed  me  that 
he  was  the  author  of  the  beautiful  little  piece,  '  The  Eagle  and  Robin 
Redbreast,'  in  the  collection  of  poems  entitled  The  Union,  though  it  is 
there  said  to  be  written  by  Archibald  Scott,  before  the  year  1600. 

3  [In  Lord  Chesterfield's  Miscellamoui  Works  will  be  found  the  very 
same  speech  which  is  also  to  be  found  in  Johnson's  works,  i.e.  if  the 
two  volumes  of  Parliamentary  Debates  are  considered  as  Johnson's 
exclusive  creation. — ^A.  B.] 


86  LIFE   OF   DR,    JOHNSON       [1738 

Thtti  WM  Johnson  employed  during  some  of  the 
best  years  of  his  life,  as  a  mere  literary  labourer  *  for 
gain^  not  glory,'  solely  to  obtain  an  honest  support 
He,  however,  indulged  himself  in  occasional  little 
sallies,  which  the  French  so  happily  express  by  the 
term  jeux  d'esprit,  and  which  will  be  noticed  in  their 
order,  in  the  progress  of  this  work. 

But  what  first  displayed  his  transcendent  powers, 
and  'gave  the  world  assurance  of  the  man,'  was  his 
*  London,  a  poem  in  imitation  of  the  third  Satire  of 
Juvenal,'  which  came  out  in  May  this  year,  and  burst 
forth  with  splendour,  the  rays  of  which  will  for  ever 
encircle  his  name.  Boileau  had  imitated  the  same 
satire  with  great  success,  applying  it  to  Paris  :  but  an 
attentive  comparison  will  satisfy  every  reader  that  he 
is  much  excelled  by  the  English  JuveuaL  Oldham 
had  also  imitated  it,  and  applied  it  to  London :  all 
which  performances  concur  to  prove  that  great  cities 
in  every  age  and  in  every  country  will  furnish  similar 
topics  of  satire.  Whether  Johnson  had  previously 
read  Oldham's  imitation  I  do  not  know ;  but  it  is 
not  a  little  remarkable  that  there  is  scarcely  any 
coincidence  found  between  the  two  performances, 
though  upon  the  very  same  subject.  The  only  in- 
stances are  in  describing  London  as  the  sink  of  foreign 
worthlessness : 

'  the  common  shore. 
Where  France  does  all  her  filth  and  ordure  pour.' — Oldhah. 
'  The  commxm  shore  of  Paris  and  of  Rome.* — Johkson. 
and, 

'  No  calling  or  profession  comes  amiss, 
A  needy  monsieur  can  be  what  he  please.' — Oldham. 
*  All  sciences  a  fasting  monsieur  knows.' — Johnson. 


iET.  29]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  87 

The  particulars  which  Oldham  has  collected,  both 
as  exhibiting  the  horrors  of  London  and  of  the  times, 
contrasted  with  better  days,  are  different  from  those 
of  Johnson,  and  in  general  well  chosen  and  well 
expressed.^ 

There  are  in  Oldham's  imitation  many  prosaic  verses 
and  bad  rhymes,  and  his  poem  sets  out  with  a  strange 
inadvertent  blunder : 

'Though  much  concem'd  to  Uave  my  dear  old  friend, 
I  most,  however,  hia  design  commend 
Of  fixing  in  the  country ' 

It  is  plain  he  was  not  going  to  leave  hia/riend ;  his 
friend  was  going  to  leave  him.  A  young  lady  at  once 
corrected  this  with  good  critical  sagacity  to 

*  Though  much  concem'd  to  loie  my  dear  old  friend.' 

There  is  one  passage  in  the  orig^al  better  transfused 
by  Oldham  than  by  Johnson  : 

'  Nil  habet  inf  ellz  paupertaa  durios  in  se, 
Quam  quod  ridiculos  homines  facit.' — v.  152. 

which  is  an  exquisite  remark  on  the  galling  meanness 
and  contempt  annexed  to  poverty:  Johnson's  imita- 
tion is  : 

'  Of  all  the  griefs  that  harass  the  distrest, 
Sure  the  most  bitter  is  a  scornful  jest' 


1  I  own  it  pleased  me  to  find  amongst  them  one  trait  of  the  manners 
of  the  age  in  London  in  the  last  century,  to  shield  from  the  sneer  of 
Eofrlish  ridicule  what  was  some  time  ago  too  common  a  practice  in  my 
native  city  of  Edinburgh  1 

'  If  what  I  've  said  can't  from  the  town  affiight, 
Collider  other  dangers  of  the  night ; 
When  brickbats  are  from  upper  stories  thrown, 
And  emptied  chamber-pots  come  pouring  doutn 
From  garret  windows' 


88  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1738 

Oldham's,  though  less  elegant,  is  more  just: 

'  Nothing  in  poverty  so  ill  is  borne, 
As  it«  exposing  men  to  grinning  sootn.' 

Where,  or  in  what  manner  this  poem  was  composed, 
I  am  sorry  that  I  neglected  to  ascertain  with  precision 
from  Johnson's  own  authority.  He  has  marked  upon 
his  corrected  copy  of  the  first  edition  of  it,  *  Written 
in  1738 ' ;  and,  as  it  was  published  in  the  month  of 
May  in  that  year,  it  is  evident  that  much  time  was 
not  employed  in  preparing  it  for  the  press.  The  his- 
tory of  its  publication  I  am  enabled  to  give  in  a  very 
satisfactory  manner;  and,  judging  from  myself  and 
many  of  my  friends,  I  trust  that  it  will  not  be  unin- 
teresting to  my  readers. 

We  may  be  certain,  though  it  is  not  expressly 
named  in  the  following  letters  to  Mr.  Cave,  in  1738, 
that  they  all  relate  to  it : 

TO  MR.   CAVE 

'  CattU  Street,  Wedneaday  Morning. 
[No  dale.  173a] 
'Sib, — When  I  took  the  liberty  of  writing  to  you  a  few 
days  ago  I  did  not  expect  a  repetition  of  the  same  pleasure  so 
soon ;  for  a  pleasure  I  shall  always  think  it  to  converse  in  any 
manner  with  an  ingenious  and  candid  man ;  bat  having  the 
enclosed  poem  in  my  hands  to  dispose  of  for  the  benefit  of  the 
author  (of  whose  abilities  I  shall  say  nothing,  since  I  send  yoa 
his  performance),  I  believed  I  could  not  procure  more  advan- 
tageous terms  from  any  person  than  from  you,  who  have  so 
much  distinguished  yourself  by  your  generous  encouragement 
of  poetry  ;  and  whose  judgment  of  that  art  nothing  but  your 
commendation  of  my  trifle  ^  can  give  me  any  occasion  to  call 
in  question.  I  do  not  doubt  but  you  will  look  over  this  poem 
with  another  eye,  and  reward  it  in  a  different  manner  from 


1  His  Ode,  Ad  Urbanum,  probably.— Nichols.] 


;et.  29]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  89 

a  mercenary  bookseller,  who  counts  the  lines  he  is  to  porchaae, 
and  considers  nothing  but  the  bulk.  I  cannot  help  taking 
notice  that,  besides  what  the  author  may  hope  for  on  account 
of  his  abilities,  he  has  likewise  another  claim  to  your  regard, 
M  he  lies  at  present  under  very  disadvantageous  circumstances 
of  fortune.  I  beg,  therefore,  that  you  will  favour  me  with  a 
letter  to-morrow,  that  I  may  know  what  you  can  afford  to 
allow  him,  that  he  may  either  part  with  it  to  you,  or  find 
out  (which  I  do  not  expect)  some  other  way  more  to  hia 
■atiaf action. 

'  I  have  only  to  add  that,  as  I  am  sensible  I  have  transcribed 
it  very  coarsely,  which,  after  having  altered  it,  I  was  obliged 
to  do,  I  will,  if  you  please  to  transmit  the  sheets  from  the 
press,  correct  it  for  you,  and  take  the  trouble  of  altering  any 
stroke  of  satire  which  you  may  dislike. 

'By  exerting  on  this  occasion  your  usual  generosity,  you 
will  not  only  encourage  learning  and  relieve  distress,  but 
(though  it  be  in  comparison  of  the  other  motives  of  very  small 
account)  oblige  in  a  very  sensible  manner,  sir,  your  very 
humble  servant.  Sax.  Joh>-son.' 

TO  MR.  CAVE 

'Monday,  No.  6  Castle  Street. 
*  Sib, — I  am  to  return  you  thanks  for  the  present  you  were 
so  kind  as  to  send  by  me,  and  to  entreat  that  you  will  be 
^  {leased  to  inform  me  by  the  penny  post  whether  you  resolve 
to  print  the  poem.  If  you  please  to  send  it  me  by  the  post, 
with  a  note  to  Dodsley,  I  will  go  and  read  the  lines  to  him, 
that  we  may  have  his  consent  to  put  his  name  in  the  title- 
page.  As  to  the  printing,  if  it  can  be  set  immediately  about, 
I  will  be  so  much  the  author's  friend  as  not  to  content  myself 
with  mere  solicitations  in  his  favour.  I  propose,  if  my  calcu- 
lation be  near  the  truth,  to  engage  for  the  reimbursement  of 
all  that  you  shall  lose  by  an  impression  of  500,  provided,  as 
you  very  generously  propose,  that  the  profit,  if  any,  be  set 
aside  for  the  author's  use,  excepting  the  present  you  made, 
which,  if  he  be  a  gainer,  it  is  fit  he  should  repay.  I  beg  that 
you  will  let  one  of  your  servants  write  an  exact  account  of  the 
expense  of  such  an  impression,  and  send  it  with  the  poem, 
that  I  may  know  what  I  engage  for.    I  am  very  sensible,  from 


90  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1738 

your  generosity  on  thia  ooouion,  of  your  regard  to  learning, 
even  in  iti  uiihappieat  state ;  and  cannot  but  think  such  a 
temper  deaerving  of  the  gratitude  of  those  who  suffer  so  often 
from  a  ooatrary  diapoaition. — I  am,  sir,  your  most  humbla 
•ervant,  &am.  JoBvaov.' 

TO  MR.  CAVE 

[No  date.] 
'  Sib,— I  waited  on  you  to  take  the  copy  to  Dodaley's :  •■ 
I  remember  the  number  of  lines  which  it  contains,  it  will  be 
no  longer  than  Eugenio,^  with  the  quotations,  which  mxut  be 
subjoined  at  the  bottom  of  the  page,  part  of  the  beauty  of  the 
performance  (if  any  beauty  be  allowed  it)  consisting  in  adapt- 
ing Juvenal's  sentiments  to  modem  facts  and  persons.  It 
will,  with  those  additions,  very  conveniently  make  five  sheets. 
And  since  the  expense  will  be  no  more,  I  shall  contentedly 
insure  it,  as  I  mentioned  in  my  last.  If  it  be  not  therefore 
gone  to  Dodsley's,  I  beg  it  may  be  sent  me  by  the  penny  post, 
that  I  may  have  it  in  the  evening.  I  have  composed  a  Greek 
Epigram  to  Eliza,'  and  think  she  ought  to  be  celebrated  in 
as  many  different  languages  as  Lewis  le  Grand.  Pray  send 
me  word  when  you  begin  upon  the  poem,  for  it  is  a  long  way 
to  walk.  I  would  leave  my  Epigram,  but  have  not  daylight 
to  transcribe  it. — I  am,  sir,  yours,  etc.,  Sam.  Johnboh.' 

TO  ICR.  GATE 

[A'o  daUJ] 
'  Sm, — I  am  extremely  obliged  by  your  kind  letter,  and  will 
not  fail  to  attend  you  to-morrow  with  Irene,  who  looks  upon 
you  as  one  of  her  best  friends. 

'  I  was  to-day  with  Mr.  Dodaley,  who  declares  very  warmly 
in  favour  of  the  paper  you  sent  him,  which  he  desires  to  have 
a  share  in,  it  being,  as  he  says,  a  creditable  thing  to  be  con- 
cerned in.  I  knew  not  what  answer  to  make  till  I  had  con- 
sulted you,  nor  what  to  demand  on  the  author's  part,  but  am 
▼ery  willing  that,  if  you  please,  he  should  have  a  part  in  it, 

1  A  poem,  published  in  1737,  of  which  see  an  account  in  vol.  iL, 
under  April  30,  1773. 

2  [The  learned  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Carter.  This  lady,  of  whom  frequent 
mention  will  be  found  in  these  Memoirs,  was  daughter  of  Nicholas 
Carter,  D.D.  She  died  in  Clarges  Street,  Feb.  19,  1806,  in  her  eighty- 
ninth  year.— M.] 


VET.  29]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  01 

aa  he  will  ondoubtedl  j  be  more  diligent  to  disperse  and  pro- 
mote it.  If  you  can  send  me  word  to-morrow  what  I  shall  say 
to  him,  I  will  settle  matters,  and  bring  the  poem  with  me  for 
the  press,  which,  as  town  empties,  we  cannot  be  too  quick 
with. — I  am,  sir,  yours,  etc.,  Sam.  Johkson.' 

To  us  who  have  long  known  the  manly  force,  bold 
spirit,  and  masterly  versification  of  this  poem,  it  is  a 
matter  of  curiosity  to  observe  the  diffidence  with  which 
its  author  brought  it  forward  into  public  notice,  whUe 
he  is  so  cautious  as  not  to  avow  it  to  be  his  own  pro- 
duction ;  and  with  what  humility  he  offers  to  allow 
the  printer  to  *  alter  any  stroke  of  'satire  which  he 
might  dislike.'  That  any  such  alteration  was  made, 
we  do  not  know.  If  we  did,  we  could  not  but  feel  an 
indignant  regret ;  but  how  painful  is  it  to  see  that  a 
writer  of  such  vigorous  powers  of  mind  was  actually 
in  such  distress  that  the  small  profit  which  so  short  a 
poem,  liowever  excellent,  could  yield,  was  courted  as 
a  'relief.' 

It  has  been  generally  said,  I  know  not  with  what 

truth,   that  Johnson   offered   his  London  to  several 

booksellers,  none  of  whom  would  purchase  it.     To 

1  this  circumstance  Mr.  Derrick  alludes  in  the  following 

lines  of  his  Fortune,  a  Rhaptody : 

'Will  no  kind  patron  Johnson  own ? 
ShaU  Johnson  friendless  range  the  town? 
And  every  publisher  refuse 
The  offspring  of  his  happy  Muse  ? ' 

But  we  have  seen  that  the  worthy,  modest,  and 
ingenious  Mr.  Robert  Dodsley  had  taste  enough  to 
perceive  its  uncommon  merit,  and  thought  it  credit- 
able to  have  a  share  in  it  The  fact  is  that  at  a  future 
conference  he  bargained  for  the  whole  property  of  it. 


02  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1738 

for  which  he  g^ve  Johnson  ten  guineas,  who  told 
me,  *  I  might  perhaps  have  accepted  of  less  ;  but  that 
Paul  Whitehead  had  a  little  before  got  ten  guineas 
for  a  poem  ;  and  I  would  not  take  less  than  Paul 
Whitehead.' 

I  may  here  observe  that  Johnson  appeared  to  me  to 
undervalue  Paul  Whitehead  upon  every  occasion  when 
he  was  mentioned,  and  in  my  opinion  did  not  do  him 
justice ;  but  when  it  is  considered  that  Paul  White- 
head was  a  member  of  a  riotous  and  profane  club, 
we  may  account  for  Johnson's  having  a  prejudice 
against  him.  Paul  Whitehead  was,  indeed,  unfor- 
tunate in  being  not  only  slighted  by  Johnson,  but 
violently  attacked  by  Churchill,  who  utters  the  fol- 
lowing imprecation : 

*  May  I  (can  worse  disgrace  on  manhood  fall  ?) 
Be  bom  a  Whitehead,  and  baptized  a  Paul ! ' 

yet  I  shall  never  be  persuaded  to  think  meanly  of  the 
author  of  so  brilliant  and  pointed  a  satire  as  Mannert. 
Johnson's  London  was  published  in  May  1738 ;  ^ 
and  it  is  remarkable  that  it  came  out  on  the  same 
morning  with  Pope's  satire,  entitled  *  1738 ' ;  so  that 
England   had  at   once   its   Juvenal   and   Horace   as 

1  Sir  John  Hawkins,  p.  86,  tells  us,  '  The  event  is  antedated  in  the 
poem  of  London :  but  in  every  particular,  except  the  difference  of  a 
year,  what  is  there  said  of  the  departure  of  Thales  must  be  understood 
of  Savage,  and  looked  upon  as  true  history.'  This  conjecture  is,  I 
believe,  entirely  groundless.  I  have  been  assured  that  Johnson  said 
he  was  not  so  much  as  acquainted  with  Savage  when  he  wrote  his 
London.  If  the  departure  mentioned  in  it  was  the  departure  of 
Savage,  the  event  was  not  antedated  but  foreseen  \  for  London  was 
published  in  May  1738,  and  Savage  did  not  set  out  for  Wales  till  July 
173Q.  However  well  Johnson  could  defend  the  credibility  of  second 
sight,  he  did  not  pretend  that  he  himself  was  possessed  of  that  faculty. 

[The  assertion  that  Johnson  was  not  even  acquainted  with  Savage 
when  he  published  his  London  may  be  doubtful.  Johnson  took  leave  of 
Savage  when  he  went  toWales  in  1739,  and  must  have  been  acquainted 
with  nim  before  that  period.    ^c^'hisLifeofScaiage. — A.  C] 


JET.  29]    LIFE    OF   DR,    JOHNSON  93 

poetical  monitors.  The  Reverend  Dr.  Douglas,  no\r 
Bishop  of  Salisbury,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for 
some  obliging  communications,  was  then  a  student  at 
Oxford,  and  remembers  well  the  effect  which  London 
produced.  Everybody  was  delighted  with  it ;  and  there 
being  no  name  to  it,  the  first  buzz  of  the  literary  circles 
was,  *  Here  is  an  unknown  poet,  greater  even  than 
Pope.'  And  it  is  recorded  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine 
of  that  year '  tliat  it  '  got  to  the  second  edition  in  the 
course  of  a  week.' 

One  of  the  warmest  patrons  of  this  poem  on  its  first 
appearance  was  General  Oglethorpe,  whose  'strong 
benevolence  of  soul '  was  unabated  during  the  course 
of  a  very  long  life  ;  though  it  is  painful  to  think 
that  he  had  but  too  much  reason  to  become  cold  and 
callous,  and  discontented  with  the  world,  from  the 
neglect  which  he  experienced  of  his  public  and  private 
worth  by  those  in  whose  power  it  was  to  gratify  so 
gallant  a  veteran  with  marks  of  distinction.  Tliis 
extraordinary  person  was  as  remarkable  for  his  learn- 
ing and  taste  as  for  his  other  eminent  qualities  ;  and 
no  man  was  more  prompt,  active,  and  generous  in 
encouraging  merit.  I  have  heard  Johnson  gratefully 
acknowledge,  in  his  presence,  the  kind  and  effectual 
support  which  he  gave  to  his  London,  though  un- 
acquainted with  its  author. 

Pope,  who  then  filled  the  poetical  throne  without 
a  rival,  it  may  reasonably  be  presumed,  must  have 
been  particularly  struck  by  the  sudden  appearance  of 
such  a  poet ;  and,  to  his  credit,  let  it  be  remembered 
that  his  feelings  and  conduct  un  the  occasion  were 

*  Page  26g. 


94  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1738 

candid  and  liberaL  He  requested  Mr.  Richardson, 
son  of  the  painter,  to  endeavour  to  find  out  who  this 
new  author  was.  Mr.  Ricliardson,  after  some  inquiry, 
having  informed  him  that  he  had  discovered  only  that 
his  name  was  Johnson,  and  that  he  was  some  obscure 
man.  Pope  said,  '  He  will  soon  be  cUterri.''^  VVe  shall 
presently  see,  from  a  note  written  by  Pope,  that  he 
was  himself  afterwards  more  successful  in  his  inquiries 
than  his  friend. 

That  in  this  justly  celebrated  poem  may  be  found 
a  few  rhymes  which  the  critical  precision  of  English 
prosody  at  this  day  would  disallow,  cannot  be  denied  ; 
but  with  this  small  imperfection,  which  in  the  general 
blaze  of  its  excellence  is  not  perceived,  till  the  mind 
has  subsided  into  cool  attention,  it  is  undoubtedly 
one  of  the  noblest  productions  in  our  language,  both 
for  sentiment  and  expression.  The  nation  was  then 
in  that  ferment  against  the  Court  and  the  Ministry 
which  some  years  after  ended  in  the  downfall  of  Sir 
Robert  Walpole ;  and  as  it  has  been  said  that  Tories 
are  Whigs  when  out  of  place,  and  Whigs  Tories  when 
in  place ;  so,  as  a  Whig  Administration  ruled  with 
what  force  it  could,  a  Tory  Opposition  had  all  the 
animation  and  all  the  eloquence  of  resistance  to  power, 
aided  by  the  common  topics  of  patriotism,  liberty,  and 
independence !  Accordingly  we  find  in  Johnson's 
London  the  most  spirited  invectives  against  tyranny 
and  oppression,  the  warmest  predilection  for  his  own 
country,  and  the  purest  love  of  virtue ;  interspersed 
with  traits  of  his  own  particular  character  and  situa- 
tion,  not  omitting    his  prejudices  as    a   '  true-bom 

3  Sir    Joshua   Reynolds,    from   the   information   of    the   younga 
Richardson. 


JET.  29]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  95 

EnglishmaDj'  ^  not  only  against  foreign  countries^  but 
against  Ireland  and  Scotland.  On  some  of  these 
topics  I  shall  quote  a  few  passages : — 

'  The  cheated  nation's  happy  f av'rites  see ; 
Mark  whom  the  great  caress,  who  frown  on  me.' 

'  Has  heaven  reserved,  in  pity  to  the  poor. 
No  pathless  waste,  or  undiscover'd  shore  ? 
No  secret  ishind  in  the  boundless  main  ? 
No  peaceful  desert  yet  unelaim'd  by  Spain  ? 
Quick  let  us  rise,  the  happy  seats  explore. 
And  bear  Oppression's  insolence  no  more.' 

*  How,  when  competitors  like  these  contend. 
Can  iurly  Virtue  hope  to  find  a  friend  ?' 

'  This  mournful  truth  is  everywhere  oonf en'd. 
Slow  risxs  worth,  bt  povxrty  DXFam'o  I' 

We  may  easily  conceive  with  what  feeling  a  great 
mind  like  his,  cramped  and  galled  by  narrow  circum- 
stances, uttered  this  last  line,  which  he  marked  by 
capitals.  The  whole  of  the  poem  is  eminently  ex- 
cellent, and  there  are  in  it  such  proofs  of  a  knowledge 
of  the  world,  and  of  a  mature  acquaintance  with  life, 
V  as  cannot  be  contemplated  without  wonder,  when  we 
consider  that  he  was  then  only  in  his  twenty-ninth 
year,  and  had  yet  been  so  little  in  the  '  busy  haunts 
of  men.' 

Yet,  while  we  admire  the  poetical  excellence  of 
this  poem,  candour  obliges  us  to  allow  that  the  flame 
of  patriotism  and  zeal  for  popular  resistance  with 
which  it  is  fraught,  had  no  just  cause.     There  was. 


1  It  is,  however,  remarkable,  that  he  uses  the  epithet  which,  un- 
doubtedly, since  the  union  between  England  and  Scotland,  ought  to 
denominate  the  natives  of  both  parts  of  our  island  : 

'  Was  early  Unght  a  Briton's  rights  to  prize. 


M  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1738 

in  truth,  no  *  oppression ' ;  the  '  nation '  was  tud 
'cheated.'  Sir  Robert  Walpole  was  a  wise  and  a 
benevolent  Minister,  who  thou(;ht  that  the  happiness 
and  prosperity  of  a  commercial  country  like  ours 
would  be  best  promoted  by  peace,  which  he  accord- 
ingly maintained  with  credit  during  a  very  long  period. 
Johnson  himself  afterwards  honestly  acknowledged 
the  merit  of  Walpole,  whom  he  called  *  a  fixed  star ' ; 
while  he  characterised  his  opponent,  Pitt,  as  'a  meteor. ' 
But  Johnson's  juvenile  poem  was  naturally  impreg- 
nated with  the  fire  of  opposition,  and  upon  every 
account  was  universally  admired. 

Though  thus  elevated  into  fame,  and  conscious  of 
uncommon  powers,  he  had  not  that  bustling  confid- 
ence, or,  I  may  rather  say,  that  animated  ambition, 
which  one  might  have  supposed  would  have  urged 
him  to  endeavour  at  rising  in  life.  But  such  was  his 
inflexible  dignity  of  character  that  he  would  not  stoop 
to  court  the  great ;  without  which  hardly  any  man 
has  made  his  way  to  a  high  station.  He  could  not 
expect  to  produce  many  such  works  as  his  London, 
and  he  felt  the  hardships  of  writing  for  bread  ;  he 
was,  therefore,  willing  to  resume  the  oflice  of  a  school- 
master, so  as  to  have  a  sure,  though  moderate,  income 
for  his  life ;  and  an  offer  being  made  to  him  of  the 
mastership  of  a  school,^  provided  he  could  obtain  the 


1  In  a  billet  written  by  Mr.  Pope  in  the  following  year,  this  school  is 
said  to  have  been  in  Shropshire ;  but  as  it  appears  nrom  a  letter  from 
Earl  Gower  that  the  trustees^  of  it  were  '  some  worthy  gentlemen  in 
Johnson's  neighbourhood,'  I  in  my  first  edition  suggested  that  Pope 
must  have,  by  mistake,  written  Shropshire  instead  of  Staffordshire. 
But  I  have  since  been  obliged  to  Mr.  Spearing,  attorney-at-law,  for  the 
following  information  : — '  William  Adams,  formerly  citizen  and  haber- 
dasher of  LondoB,  founded  a  school  at  Newport,  in  the  county  of  Salop, 
by  deed  dated  27th  of  November  1656,  by  which  he  granted  "the  yearly 
sum  qS  sixty  f<mnds  to  such  able  and  learned  schoolmaster,  from  time 


;et.  29]    LIFE    OF   DR,    JOHNSON  97 

degree  of  Master  of  Arts,  Dr.  Adams  was  applied  to, 
by  a  common  friend,  to  know  whether  that  could  be 
granted  him  as  a  favour  from  the  University  of  Oxford. 
But  though  he  had  made  such  a  figure  in  the  literary 
world,  it  was  then  thought  too  great  a  favour  to  be 
asked. 

Pope,  without  any  knowledge  of  him  but  from  his 
London,  recommended  him  to  Earl  Gower,  who 
endeavoured  to  procure  for  him  a  degree  from  Dublin, 
by  the  following  letter  to  a  friend  of  Dean  Swift : 


to  time,  being  of  godly  life  and  conversation,  who  should  have  been 
educated  at  one  of  the  Universities  of  Oxford  or  Cambridge,  and  had 
taken  the  degree  of  Matttr  of  Arts,  and  was  well  read  in  the  Greek 
and  Latin  tongues,  as  should  be  nominated  from  time  to  time  by  the 
said  William  Adaaos  during  his  life  ;  and  after  the  decease  of  the  said 
William  Adams  by  the  governors  (namely,  the  Master  and  Wardens  of 
the  Haberdashers  Company  of  the  city  of'^London)  and  their  successors." 
The  manor  and  lands  out  of  which  the  revenues  for  the  maintenance  of 
the  school  were  to  issue  are  situate  at  Knighton  and  Adbatton,  in  th* 
county  of  Stafford.'  From  the  foregoing  account  of  this  foundation, 
particularly  the  drcimistances  of  the  salary  being  sixty  pounds,  and  the 
degree  of  Master  of  Arts  being  a  requisite  qualification  in  the  teacher, 
it  seemed  probable  that  this  was  the  school  in  contemplation  ;  and  that 
Lord  Gower  erroneously  supposed  that  the  gentlemen  who  possessed 
the  lands,  out  of  which  the  revenues  issued,  were  trustees  of  the  charity. 

Such  was  probable  conjecture.  But  in  the  GentUman's  Magaiine 
for  May  1793,  there  is  a  letter  from  Mr.  Henn,  one  of  the  masters  of  the 
school  of  Appleby,  in  Leicestershire,  in  which  he  writes  as  follows  : — 

'  I  compared  time  and  circumstance  together,  in  order  to  discover 
j^whether  toe  school  in  question  might  not  t^  this  of  Appleby.  Some  of 
the  trustees  at  that  period  were  'worthy  gentlemen  of  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Lichfield.'  Appleby  itself  is  not  far  from  the  neighbourhood  of 
Lichfield :  the  salar>',  the  degree  requisite,  tocether  with  the  time  of 
tUction,  all  agreeing  with  the  statutes  of  Appleby.  The  election,  as  said 
in  the  letter,  could  not  be  delayed  longer  than  the  nth  of  next  month," 
which  was  the  nth  of  September,  just  three  months  after  the  annual 
audit-day  of  Appleby  school,  which  is  always  on  the  nth  of  June  :  and 
the  statutes  enjoin,  n«  ullitu  pretctptorum  eUctio  diutius  tribui  nun- 
tibus  moruretur,  etc. 

'  These  I  thought  to  be  convincing  proofs  that  my  conjecture  was  not 
ill-founded,  and  that  in  a  future  edition  of  that  book  the  circumstance 
might  be  recorded  as  fact. 

'  But  what  banishes  every  shadow  of  doubt  is  the  Minute-book  of  the 
school,  which  declares  the  headmastership  to  be  at  that  time  vacant.' 

I  cannot  omit  returning  thanks  to  this  learned  gentleman  for  the 
very  handsome  manner  in  which  he  has  in  that  letter  been  so  good  as  to 
speak  of  this  work. 

VOL.  I.  O 


96  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1738 

'Sis, — Mr.  S«mQel  Johnaon  (author  of  London,  %  satire, 
and  aome  other  poetical  pieoes)  i«  a  natiTe  of  this  ooootrj,  and 
much  respected  bj  some  worthj  gentlemen  in  his  neighbour- 
hood, who  are  trustees  of  a  charitj-sohool  now  vacant.  The 
oertain  salary  is  sixty  pounds  a  year,  of  which  they  are 
desirous  to  make  him  master ;  but,  unfortunately,  he  is  not 
capable  of  reooiTing  their  bounty,  which  vould  make  kim 
^PPy  fo^  i*f'f  ^7  Dot  being  a  Matter  of  Art*,  which,  by  the 
statutes  of  this  school,  the  maitter  of  it  must  be. 

'Now  these  gentlemen  do  me  the  honour  to  think  that  I 
have  interest  enough  in  you,  to  prevail  upon  you  to  write  to 
Dean  Swift,  to  persuade  the  University  of  Dublin  to  send  a 
diploma  to  me,  constituting  this  poor  man  Master  of  Arts  in 
their  University.  They  highly  extol  the  man's  learning  and 
probity,  and  will  not  be  persuaded  that  the  University  will 
make  any  difficulty  of  conferring  such  a  favour  upon  a 
stranger  if  he  is  recommended  by  the  Dean.  They  say  he  is 
not  afraid  of  the  strictest  examination,  though  he  is  of  so  long 
a  journey,  and  will  venture  it  if  the  Dean  thinlcs  it  necessary, 
choosing  rather  to  die  upon  the  road  than  he  ttarved  to  death 
in  translating  for  booktellert,  which  has  been  his  only  sub- 
sistence for  some  time  past. 

'I  fear  there  is  more  difficulty  in  this  affair  than  those 
good-natured  gentlemen  apprehend,  especially  as  their  election 
cannot  be  delayed  longer  than  the  11th  of  next  montli.  If 
you  see  this  matter  in  the  same  light  that  it  appears  to  me,  I 
hope  you  will  bum  this,  and  pardon  me  for  giving  you  so  much 
trouble  about  an  impracticable  thing ;  but  if  you  think  there 
is  a  probability  of  obtaining  the  favour  asked,  I  am  sure  your 
humanity,  and  propensity  to  relieve  merit  in  distress,  will  in- 
cline you  to  serve  the  poor  man,  without  my  adding  any  more 
to  the  trouble  I  have  already  given  you,  than  assuring  you  that 
lam,  with  great  truth,  sir,  your  faithful  servant,        Gowxb. 

'Tbxmtham,  Aug.  1,  1739.' 

It  was,  perhaps,  no  small  disappointment  to  John- 
son that  this  respectable  application  had  not  the 
desired  effect :  yet  how  much  reason  has  there  been, 
both  for  himself  and  his  countrj',  to  rejoice  that  it  did 
not  succeed,  as  he  might  probably  have  wasted  in 


jET.2g]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  99 

obscurity  those  hours  in  which  he  afterwards  produced 
his  incomparable  works. 

About  this  time  he  made  one  other  effort  to  eman- 
cipate himself  from  the  drudgery  of  authorship.  He 
applied  to  Dr.  Adams,  to  consult  Dr.  Smallbroke  oi 
the  Commons,  whether  a  person  might  be  permitted 
to  practise  as  an  advocate  there,  without  a  doctor's 
degree  in  Civil  Law.  '  I  am  (said  he)  a  total  stranger 
to  these  studies ;  but  whatever  is  a  profession,  and 
maintains  numbers,  must  be  within  the  reach  of 
common  abilities,  and  some  degree  of  industry.'  Dr. 
Adams  was  much  pleased  with  Johnson's  design  to 
dmploy  his  talents  in  that  manner,  being  confident  he 
would  have  atbiined  to  great  eminence.  And,  indeed, 
I  cannot  conceive  a  man  better  qualified  to  make  a 
distinguished  figure  as  a  lawyer ;  for,  he  would  have 
brought  to  his  profession  a  rich  store  of  various  know- 
ledge, an  uncommon  acuteness,  and  a  command  of 
language,  in  which  few  could  have  equalled,  and  none 
have  surpassed,  him.  He  who  could  display  eloquence 
and  wit  in  defence  of  the  decision  of  the  House  of 
Commons  upon  Mr.  Wilkes's  election  for  Middlesex, 
^^  of  the  unconstitutional  taxation  of  our  fellow- 
subjects  in  America,  must  have  been  a  powerful 
advocate  in  any  cause.  But  here,  also,  the  want  of  a 
degree  was  an  insurmountable  bar. 

He  was  therefore  under  the  necessity  of  persevering 
in  that  course  into  which  he  had  been  forced  ;  and  we 
find  that  his  proposal  from  Greenwich  to  Mr.  Cave, 
for  a  translation  of  Father  Paul  Sarpi's  History,  was 
accepted.^ 

1  In  the  IVeekly  Miscellany,  October  ai,  1738,  there  apjjeared  the 
following   advertisement :   '  Just  published,  proposals  for  printing  th« 


100  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1738 

Some  sheets  of  this  translation  were  printed  off, 
but  the  design  was  dropped ;  for  it  happened,  oddlf 
enough,  that  another  person  of  the  name  of  Samuel 
Johnson,  Librarian  of  St.  Martin's-in-the-Fields,  and 
curate  of  that  parish,  engaged  in  the  same  undertaking, 
and  was  patronised  by  the  clergy,  particularly  by  Dr. 
Pierce,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Rochester.  Several  light 
skirmishes  passed  between  the  rival  translators  in  the 
newspapers  of  the  day,  and  the  consequence  was  that 
they  destroyed  each  other,  for  neither  of  them  went  on 
with  the  work.  It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  the 
able  performance  of  that  celebrated  genius,  Fra  Paolo, 
lost  the  advantage  of  being  incorporated  into  British 
literature  by  the  masterly  hand  of  Johnson. 

I  have  in  my  possession,  by  the  favour  of  Mr.  John 
Nichols,  a  paper  in  Johnson's  handwriting,  entitled, 
'Account  between  Mr.  Edward  Cave  and  Sam.  John- 
son, in  relation  to  a  version  of  Father  Paul,  etc., 
begun  August  the  2nd,  1738' ;  by  which  it  appears  that 
from  that  day  to  the  21st  of  April  1739,  Johnson 
received  for  this  work  £49,  78.  in  sums  of  one,  two, 
three,  and  sometimes  four  guineas  at  a  time,  most 


History  o/tfu  Council  of  Trtnt,  translated  from  the  Italian  of  Father 
Paul  Sarpi ;  with  the  Author's  Life,  and  Notes  theological,  historical, 
and  critical,  from  the_  French  edition  of  Dr.  Le  Courayer.  To  which 
are  added,  '  Observations  on  the  Hbtory,  and  Notes  and  Illustrations 
from  various  Authors,  both  printed  and  manuscript.  By  S.  Johnson.' 
1.  The  workwill  consist  of  two  hundred  sheets,  and  be  in  two  volumes 
in  Quarto,  printed  on  good  paper  and  jetter.  2.  The  price  will  be  18s. 
eaui  volume,  to  be  paid  half  a  guinea  at  the  dehvery  of  the  first 
volume,  and  the  rest  at  the  delivery  of  the  second  volume  in  sheets. 
3.  Twopence  to  be  abated  for  every  sheet  less  than  two  hundred.  It 
may  be  had  on  a  large  paper,  in  three  volumes,  at  the  price  of  three 
guineas ;  one  to  be  paid  at  the  time  of  subscribing,  another  at  the 
delivery  of  the  first,  and  the  rest  at  the  delivery  of  the  other  volumes. 
The  work  is  now  in  the  press,  and  will  be  diligently  prosecuted.  Sub- 
scriptions are  taken  in  by  Mr.  Dodsley  in  Pall  Mall,  Mr.  Rivington  in 
St.  Paul's  Churchyard,  by  E.  Cave  at  St.  John's  Gate,  and  the  Trans- 
lator,  at  No.  6  in  Castle  Street,  by  Cavendish  Square.' 


.ET.  29]    LIFE    OF   DR,    JOHNSON         101 

frequeutly  two.  And  it  is  curious  to  observe  the 
minute  and  scrupulous  accuracy  with  which  Johnson 
had  pasted  upon  it  a  slip  of  paper,  which  he  has 
entitled  '  Small  Account,'  and  which  contains  one 
article,  'Sept  9th,  Mr.  Cave  laid  down  2s.  6d.'  There 
is  subjoined  to  this  account  a  list  of  some  subscribers 
to  the  work,  partly  in  Johnson's  handwriting,  partly 
in  that  of  another  person ;  and  there  follows  a  leaf 
or  two  on  which  are  written  a  number  of  characters 
which  have  the  appearance  of  a  short  hand,  which, 
perhaps,  Johnson  was  then  trying  to  learn. 

TO  MR.  OATB 

Wednetday. 

*  Sm, — I  did  not  care  to  detain  your  servant  while  I  wrote 
an  answer  to  your  letter,  in  which  yon  seem  to  insinuate  that 
I  had  promised  more  than  I  am  ready  to  perform.  If  I  have 
raised  your  expectations  by  anything  that  may  have  escaped 
my  memory,  I  am  sorry,  and  if  you  remind  me  of  it  shall 
thank  you  for  the  favour.  If  I  made  fewer  alterations  than 
usual  in  the  Debates,  it  was  only  because  there  appeared, 
and  still  appears  to  be,  less  need  of  alteration.  The  verses 
to  Lady  Firebrace^  may  be  had  when  you  please,  for  you 
know  that  such  a  subject  neither  deserves  much  thought  nor 
requires  it. 

"The  Chinese  Stories*  may  be  had  folded  down  when  you 
please  to  send,  in  which  I  do  not  recoUect  that  you  desired 
any  alterations  to  be  made. 

'  An  answer  to  another  query  I  am  very  willing  to  write, 
and  had  consiilted  with  you  about  it  last  night  if  there  had 
been  time,  for  I  think  it  the  most  proper  way  of  inviting 
such  a  correspondence  as  may  be  an  advantage  to  the  paper, 
not  a  load  upon  it. 


_  1  They  afterwards  appeared  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  with  this 
title,  'Verses  to  Lady  Fire  brace,  at  Bury  Assizes.' 

2  (Du  Halde's  Description  of  China  was  then  publishing  by  Mr. 
Cave  in  weekly  numbers,  whence  Johnson  was  to  select  pieces  for  the 
embellishment  of  the  Magazine. — Nichols.] 


102         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        I17.38 

'As  to  the  priM  rtnet,  a  b«ekw&rdneu  to  detormlne  their 
degrees  of  merit  Im  not  peoulijur  to  me.  Yoa  may,  it  yoa 
pleaee,  etill  have  what  I  can  aaj,  but  I  thall  engage  with 
little  apirit  in  an  affair  wliioh  1  ahall  hardly  end  to  my  own 
aatiifaotion,  and  omioMdy  not  to  the  Mtiifaction  of  the  partiea 
oonoemed.> 

*  Ai  to  Father  Paol,  I  have  not  yet  been  jtut  to  m}-  propoaal, 
but  hare  met  with  impedimenta,  which  I  hope  are  now  at 
an  end ;  and  it  yon  find  the  progreai  hereafter  not  tuoh  aa  yoa 
have  a  right  to  expect,  yoa  can  easily  itimulate  a  negligent 
translator. 

'  If  any  or  all  of  these  have  contributed  to  your  discontent, 
I  will  endeavour  to  remove  it,  and  desire  you  to  pro]>ose 
the  question  to  which  you  wish  for  an  answer. — 1  am,  sir, 
your  humble  servant,  Sam.  JomtsoH.' 

TO  MB.  CAVE 

[No  daU.'i 
'Sia,— I  am  pretty  mooh  of  your  opinion,  that  the  Com> 
mentary  cannot  be  prosecuted  with  any  appearance  of  success, 
for  as  the  names  of  the  authors  concerned  are  ot  more  weight  in 
the  performance  than  its  own  intrinsic  merit,  the  public  will 
be  soon  satisfied  with  it.  And  I  think  the  Examen  should 
be  pushed  forward  with  the  utmost  expedition.  Thus  '  This 
day,  etc,  An  Examcn  of  Mr.  Pope's  Essay,  etc.,  containing  a 
succinct  Account  of  the  Philosophy  of  Mr.  Leibnitz  on  the 
System  of  the  Fatalists,  with  a  Confutation  of  their  Opinions 
and  an  Illustration  of  the  Doctrine  of  Free-will "  (with  what 
else  you  think  proper). 

'It  will,  above  all,  be  necessary  to  take  notice  that  it 
is  a  thing  distinct  from  the  Commentary. 

'  I  was  so  far  from  imagining  they  stood  still '  that  I  con- 
ceived them  to  have  a  good  deal  beforehand,  and  therefore 
was  less  anxious  in  providing  them  more.  But  if  ever  they 
stand  still  on  my  account,  it  must  doubtless  be  charged  to  me, 
and  whatever  else  shall  be  reasonable  I  shall  not  oppose,  but 
b^  a  suspense  of  judgment  till  morning,  when  I  must  entreat 


1  [The  premium  of  forty  pounds  proposed  for  the  best  poem  on  the 
Divine  Attributes  is  here  alluded  to. — N1CH01.S.] 

-  [The  compositors  in  Mr.  Cave's  printing-office,  who  appear  by  this 
letter  to  have  then  waited  for  copy. — Nichols.1 


^T.  29]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  103 

yoa  to  send  me  »  doton  proposals,  and  yon  shall  then  have 
copy  to  spare. — I  am,  sir,  jroors,  impransut, 

'Sam.  Johnson. 

*  Praf  master  np  the  proposals  if  yoa  can,  or  let  the  boy 
recall  Uiem  from  the  booksellers.' 

But  although  he  corresponded  with  Mr.  Cave  con- 
ceming  a  translation  of  Crousaz's  Examen  of  Poptfa 
Etsay  on  Man,  and  gave  advice  as  one  anxious  for 
its  success,  I  was  long  ago  convinced  by  a  perusal 
of  the  preface  that  this  translation  was  erroneously 
ascribed  to  him,  and  I  have  found  this  point  ascer- 
tained beyond  all  doubt  by  the  following  article  in 
Dr.  Birch's  manuscripts  in  the  British  Museum ; 

'  EIJ&£  CARTERS,  S.  P.  D.  THOMAS  BIRCH 

'  Vertionem,  tuam  Examinia  Croutazicmi  jam  pcrlegx. 
Summam  ttyli  et  elegamtiam,  et  in  re  diffieilima  proprie- 
totem,  admirattu. 

•  Dabam  Nowtnb.  27,  1738.'  i 

Indeed,  Mrs.  Carter  has  lately  acknowledged  to  Mr. 
Seward  that  she  was  the  translator  of  the  Examen. 

It  is  remarkable  that  Johnson's  last^uoted  letter  to 
Mr.  Cave  concludes  with  a  fair  confession  that  he  had 
not  a  dinner ;  and  it  is  no  less  remarkable  that,  though 
in  this  state  of  want  himself,  his  benevolent  heart  was 
not  insensible  to  the  necessities  of  an  humble  labourer 
in  literature,  as  appears  from  the  very  next  letter : 

TO   MB.  CAVE 

[No  daU.'\ 
*Deab  Sib, — You  may  remember  I  have  formerly  talked 
with  yoa  about  a  Military  Dictionary.    The  eldest  Mr.  Mao- 
Dean,  who  was  with  Mr.  Chambers,  has  very  good  materials 
tor  such  a  work,  which  I  have  seen,  and  will  do  it  at  a  very 


A  Birch  MSS.,  Bnt.  Mus.  4333. 


104         LIFE   OP   DR.    JOHNSON        [1738 

low  rate.  I  think  th«  terms  of  war  and  navigation  might  b« 
oomprised,  with  good  ezplanationa,  in  one  8vo  pica,  which  ha 
ic  willing  to  do  for  18a.  a  sheet,  to  be  made  up  a  guinea  at  the 
second  impression.  If  you  think  on  it,  I  will  wait  on  yon 
with  him. — I  am,  sir,  your  humble  servant, 

'  Sax.  Jomsojr. 
'Pray  lend  me  Topsel  on  Animals.' 

I  must  not  omit  to  mention  that  this  Mr.  Macbean 
was  a  native  of  Scotland. 

In  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  of  this  year  Johnson 
gave  a  Life  of  Father  Paul,  and  he  wrote  the  Preface 
to  the  volume,  which,  though  prefixed  to  it  when 
bound,  is  always  published  with  the  appendix,  and  is 
therefore  the  last  composition  belonging  to  it.  The 
ability  and  nice  adaptation  with  which  he  could  draw 
up  a  prefatory  address  was  one  of  his  peculiar  ex- 
cellencies. 

It  appears,  too,  that  he  paid  a  friendly  attention 
to  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Carter;  for  in  a  letter  from  Mr. 
Cave  to  Dr.  Birch,  November  28  this  year,  I  find 
'  Mr.  Johnson  advises  Miss  C.  to  undertake  a  trans- 
lation of  Boethiua  de  Com.,  because  there  is  prose 
and  verse,  and  to  put  her  name  to  it  when  published.' 
This  advice  was  not  followed,  probably  from  an  appre- 
hension that  the  work  was  not  sufficiently  popular  for 
an  extensive  sale.  How  well  Johnson  himself  could 
have  executed  a  translation  of  this  philosophical  poet 
we  may  judge  from  the  following  specimen,  which  he 
has  given  in  the  Rambler  {Motto  to  No.  7) : 

'  O  qui  perpetud  mundum  ratume  gvbemtu^ 

Terrarum  ccdique  sator  ! 

Ditjice  terrence  nebulat  et  pondera  molts, 
Atque  tuo  splendor e  mica  I    Tu  namque  serenwn, 
Tu  requies  tranquiUa  piis.     Tt  eemere  finis, 
Prineipium,  vector,  dtix,  semita,  termintis,  idem.' 


iET.  3o]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         106 

*  O  Thou  whose  power  o'er  moving  worlds  presides, 
Whose  voice  created,  and  whose  wisdom  guides, 
On  darkling  man  in  pure  effulgence  shine. 
And  cheer  the  clouded  mind  with  light  divine. 
Tia  thine  alone  to  calm  the  pious  breast, 
With  silent  confidence  and  holy  rest ; 
From  thee,  great  God !  we  spring,  to  thee  we  tend. 
Path,  motive,  gxiide,  original,  and  end ! ' 

In  1739,  beside  the  assistance  which  he  gave  to  the 
Parliamentary  Debates,  his  writings  in  the  Gentle- 
man's Magazine  were,  *  The  Life  of  Boerhaave,'  in 
which  it  is  to  be  obsen'ed  that  he  discovers  that  love 
of  chemistry  which  never  forsook  him  ;  '  An  Appeal 
to  the  Public  in  behalf  of  the  Editor' ;  'An  Address 
to  the  Reader ' ;  'An  Epigram  both  in  Greek  and 
Latin  to  Eliza/  and  also  English  verses  to  her ;  and 
'A  Greek  Epigram  to  Dr.  Birch.'  It  has  been  erro- 
neously supposed  that  an  essay  published  in  that 
Magazine  this  year,  entitled,  'The  Apotheosis  of 
Milton,'  was  written  by  Johnson,  and  on  that  sup- 
position it  has  been  improperly  inserted  in  the  edition 
of  his  works  by  the  booksellers  after  his  decease. 
Were  there  no  positive  testimony  as  to  this  point, 
the  style  of  the  performance,  and  the  name  of  Shake- 
speare not  being  mentioned  in  an  essay  professedly 
reviewing  the  principal  English  poets,  would  ascertain 
it  not  to  be  the  production  of  Johnson ;  but  there  is 
here  no  occasion  to  resort  to  internal  evidence,  for  my 
Lord  Bishop  of  Salisbury  (Dr.  Douglas)  has  assured 
me  that  it  was  written  by  Guthrie.  His  separate 
publications  were  :  'A  Complete  Vindication  of  the 
Licensers  of  the  Stage  from  the  malicious  and  scan- 
dalous Aspersions  of  Mr.  Brook,  author  of  Gustavut 
V<ua,'  being  an  ironical  attack  upon  them  for  the 


106         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1739 

■uppreasioD  of  that  tragedy,  and  Marmor  Nor/olcienat ; 
or,  an  Essay  on  an  ancient  prophetical  Inscription, 
in  Monkish  Rhyme,  lately  dii>covered  near  Lynne  in 
Norfolk,  by  Probiu  Britanmcus.  In  this  performance 
he,  in  a  feigned  inscription,  supposed  to  have  been 
found  in  Norfolk,  the  county  of  Sir  Robert  Walpole, 
then  the  obnoxious  prime  minister  of  this  country, 
inveighs  against  the  Brunswick  succession  and  the 
meiisures  of  government  consequent  upon  it.^  To 
this  supposed  prophecy  he  added  a  Commentary, 
making  each  expression  apply  to  the  times,  with 
warm  Anti-Hanoverian  zeal. 

This  anonymous  pamphlet,  I  believe,  did  not  make 
so  much  noise  as  was  expected,  and  therefore  had  not 
a  very  extensive  circulation.  Sir  John  Hawkins  re- 
lates that  '  warrants  were  issued  and  meaMngers 
employed  to  apprehend  the  author,  who,  though  he 
had  forborne  to  subscribe  his  name  to  the  pamphlet, 
Uie  vigilance  of  those  in  pursuit  of  him  had  discovered,* 
and  we  are  informed  that  he  lay  concealed  in  Lam- 
beth Marsh  till  the  scent  after  him  grew  cold.  Tliis, 
however,  is  altogether  without  foundation,  for  Mr. 
Steele,  one  of  the  Secretaries  of  the  Treasury,  who, 
amidst  a  variety  of  important  business,  politely  obliged 
me  with  his  attention  to  my  inquiry,  informed  me  '  that 
he  directed  every  possible  search  to  be  made  in  the 
records  of  the  Treasury  and  Secretary  of  State's  Office, 
but  could  find  no  trace  whatever  of  any  warrant 
having  been  issued  to  apprehend  the  author  of  this 
pamphlet' 

Marmor   Nor/olcierue   became   exceedingly  scarce, 

1  The  inscription  and  the  translation  of  it  are  preserved  in  the  London 
Magasin*  for  the  year  1739,  p.  244. 


JET.  3o]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         107 

so  that  I  for  many  years  endeavoured  in  vain  to 
procure  a  copy  of  it  At  last  I  was  indebted  to  the 
malice  of  one  of  Johnson's  numerous  petty  adversaries, 
who,  in  1775,  published  a  new  edition  of  it,  *with 
Notes  and  a  Dedication  to  Samuel  Johnson,  LL.D., 
by  Trjbunus,'  in  which  some  puny  scribbler  invidi- 
oujsly  attempted  to  found  upon  it  a  charge  of  in- 
consistency against  its  author  because  he  had  accepted 
of  a  pension  from  his  present  Majesty  and  had  written 
in  support  of  the  measures  of  the  Government  As  a 
mortification  to  such  impotent  malice,  of  which  there 
are  so  many  instances  towards  men  of  eminence,  I 
am  happy  to  relate  that  this  telum  imbelle  did  not 
reach  its  exalted  object  till  about  a  year  after  it  thus 
appeared,  when  I  mentioned  it  to  him,  supposing  that 
he  knew  of  the  republication.  To  my  surprise  he  had 
not  yet  heard  of  it  He  requested  me  to  go  directly 
and  get  it  for  him,  which  I  did.  He  looked  at  it  and 
laughed,  and  seemed  to  be  much  diverted  with  the 
feeble  efforts  of  his  unknown  adversary,  who,  I  hope, 
is  alive  to  read  this  account  '  Now  (said  he),  here  is 
somebody  who  thinks  he  has  vexed  me  sadly ;  yet  if  it 
had  not  been  for  you,  you  rogue,  I  should  probably 
never  have  seen  it' 

As  Mr.  Pope's  note  concerning  Johnson,  alluded  to 
in  a  former  page,  refers  both  to  his  London  and  his 
Marmor  Norfolciense,  I  have  deferred  inserting  it 
till  now.  I  am  indebted  for  it  to  Dr.  Percy,  the 
Bishop  of  Dromore,  who  permitted  me  to  copy  it 
from  the  original  in  his  possession.  It  was  presented 
to  his  Lordship  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  to  whom 
it  was  given  by  the  son  of  Mr.  Richardson  the 
painter,  the  person  to  whom  it  is  addressed.     I  have 


lOB  LIFE   OF   DR,    JOHNSON        [1739 

transcribed  it  with  minute  ezactneu,  that  the  peculiar 
mode  of  writing  and  imperfect  spelling  of  that 
celebrated  poet  may  be  exhibited  to  the  curious  in 
literature.  It  justifies  Swift's  epithet  of  '  paper- 
sparing  Pope,'  for  it  is  written  on  a  slip  no  larger 
than  a  common  message-card,  and  was  sent  to  Mr. 
Richardson  along  with  the  imitation  of  Juvenal. 

'  This  is  imitated  by  one  Johnson  who  pnt  in  for  a  Public- 
•ohool  in  Shropxhire,  but  waa  disappointed.  He  has  an 
infirmity  of  the  convulsive  kind,  that  attacks  him  sometimes, 
so  as  to  make  Him  a  sad  Spectacle.  Mr.  P.  from  the  Merit 
of  This  Work  which  was  all  the  knowledge  he  had  of  Him 
endeavoured  to  serve  Him  without  his  own  application;  k 
wrote  to  my  L''.  gore,  but  he  did  not  succeed.  Mr.  Johnson 
published  afterW*.  another  Poem  in  Latin  with  Notes  the 
whole  very  Humeroxu  call'd  the  Norfolk  Prophecy.  P.* 

Johnson  had  been  told  of  this  note,  and  Sir  Joshua 
Rejrnolds  informed  him  of  the  compliment  which  it 
contained,  but,  from  delicacy,  avoided  showing  him 
the  paper  itself.  AVlien  Sir  Joshua  observed  to  John- 
son that  he  seemed  very  desirous  to  see  Pope's  note, 
he  answered,  '  VVho  would  not  be  proud  to  have  such 
a  man  as  Pope  so  solicitous  in  inquiring  about 
him  .•* ' 

The  infirmity  to  which  Mr.  Pope  alludes  appeared 
to  me  also,  as  I  have  elsewhere^  observed,  to  be  of  the 
con\'ulsive  kind,  and  of  the  nature  of  that  distemper 
called  St.  Vltus's  dance ;  and  in  this  opinion  I  am 
confirmed  by  the  description  which  Sydenham  gives 
of  that  disease  :  'This  disorder  is  a  kind  of  convulsion. 
It  manifests  itself  by  halting  or  unsteadiness  of  one  of 
the  legs,  which  the  patient  draws  after  him  like  an 

1  Journal  of  a  Tour  to  the  Hebrides. 


iET.  3o]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  109 

idiot  If  the  hand  of  the  same  side  be  applied  to  the 
breast  or  any  other  part  of  the  body,  he  cannot  keep 
it  a  moment  in  the  same  posture,  but  it  will  be  drawn 
into  a  different  one  by  a  convulsion,  notwithstanding 
all  his  efforts  to  the  contrary.  *  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds, 
however,  was  of  a  different  opinion,  and  favoured  me 
with  the  following  paper : 

'  Those  motions  or  tricks  of  Dr.  Johnson  are  improperly  called 
convulsions.  He  could  sit  motionless,  when  he  was  told  so  to 
do,  as  well  as  any  other  man.  Hy  opinion  is  that  it  proceeded 
from  a  habit  *  which  he  had  indulged  himself  in,  of  accom- 
panying his  thoughts  with  certain  untoward  actions,  and  those 
actions  always  appeared  to  me  as  if  they  were  meant  to  repro- 
bate some  part  of  his  past  conduct.  Whenever  he  was  not 
engaged  in  conversation,  such  thoughts  were  sure  to  rush  into 
his  mind,  and  for  this  reason  any  company,  any  employment 
whatever,  he  preferred  to  being  alone.  The  great  business  of 
his  life  (he  said)  was  to  escape  from  himself ;  this  disposition 
he  considered  as  the  disease  of  his  mind,  which  nothing  cured 
but  company. 

'One  instance  of  his  absence  and  particularity,  as  it  is 
characteristic  of  the  man,  may  be  worth  relating.  When  he 
and  I  took  a  journey  together  into  the  West,  we  visited  the 
late  Mr.  Banks,  of  Dorsetshire.  The  conversation  turning 
upon  pictures,  which  Johnson  could  not  well  see,  he  retired  to 
a  corner  of  the  room,  stretching  out  his  right  leg  as  far  as  he 
could  reach  before  him,  then  bringing  up  his  left  leg,  and 
stretching  his  right  stUl  further  on.  The  old  gentleman 
observing  him,  went  up  to  him,  and  in  a  very  courteous 
manner  assured  him,  though  it  was  not  a  new  house,  the 
flooring  was  perfectly  safe.  The  Doctor  started  from  his 
reverie  like  a  person  waked  out  of  his  sleep,  but  spoke  not  a 
word.* 


1  [Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's  notion  on  this  subject  is  confirmed  by  what 
Johnson  himself  said  to  a  young  lady,  the  niece  of  his  friend,  Christo- 
pher Smart.  See  a  note  by  Mr.  Boswell  on  some  particulars  communi- 
cated by  Reynolds  in  vol.  iv.,  under  March  30, 1783.— M.] 


110  LIFE   OP   DR.    JOHNSON        [1739 

While  we  are  on  this  subject,  my  readers  may  not 
be  displeased  with  another  anecdote,  communicated 
to  me  by  the  same  friend,  from  the  relation  of  Mr. 
Hogarth. 

Johnson  used  to  be  a  pretty  frequent  visitor  at  the 
house  of  Mr.  Richardson,  author  of  Clarista,  and 
other  novels  of  extensive  reputation.  Mr.  Hogarth 
came  one  day  to  see  Richardson,  soon  after  the  execu- 
tion of  Dr.  Cameron,  for  having  taken  arms  for  the 
house  of  Stuart  in  1745-6,  and  being  nwarm  partisan 
of  George  the  Second,  he  observed  to  Richardson,  that 
certainly  there  must  have  been  some  very  unfavour- 
able circumstances  lately  discovered  in  this  particular 
case,  which  had  induced  the  King  to  approve  of  an 
execution  for  rebellion  so  long  after  the  time  when  it 
was  committed,  as  this  had  the  appearance  of  putting 
a  man  to  death  in  cold  blood,'  and  was  very  unlike 
his  Majesty's  usual  clemency.  While  he  was  talking, 
he  perceived  a  person  standing  at  a  window  in  the 
room,  shaking  his  head,  and  rolling  himself  about  in 
a  strange,  ridiculous  manner.  He  concluded  that  he 
was  an  idiot,  whom  his  relations  had  put  under  the 
care  of  Mr.  Richardson,  as  a  very  good  man.     To  his 


1  Impartial  posterity  n>ay,  perhaps,  be  as  little  inclined  as  Dr. 
Johnson  was,  to  justify  the  uncommon  rigour  exercised  in  the  case  of 
Dr.  Archibald  Cameron.  He  was  an  amiable  and  truly  honest  man  ; 
and  his  oflfence  was  owing  to  a  generous  though  mistaken  principle  of 
duty.  Being  obliged,  after  1746,  to  give  up  his  profession  as  a 
physician,  and  to  go  into  foreign  parts,  he  was  honoured  with  the  ranlc 
of  colonel,  both  in  the  French  and  Spanish  service.  He  was  a  son  of 
the  ancient  and  respectable  family  of  Cameron  of  Locbiel  |  and  his 
brother,  who  was  the  chief  of  that  brave  clan,  distinguished  himself  by 
moderation  and  humanity  while  the  Highland  army  marched  victorious 
through  Scotland.  It  is  remarkable  of  this  chief,  that  though  he  had 
earnestly  remonstrated  against  the  attempt  as  hopeless,  he  was  of  too 
faeroic  a  spirit  not  to  venture  his  life  and  fortune  in  the  cause  when  per- 
sonally aslced  by  him  whom  he  thought  his  Prince. 


iET.  3i]     LIFE   OP   DR.    JOHNSON         111 

great  surprise,  however,  this  figure  stalked  forwards  to 
where  he  and  Mr.  Richardson  were  sitting,  and  all  at 
once  took  up  the  argument,  and  burst  out  into  an 
invective  against  George  the  Second,  as  one  who,  upon 
all  occasions,  was  unrelenting  and  barbarous,  mention- 
ing many  instances,  particularly,  that  when  an  officer 
of  high  rank  had  been  acquitted  by  a  court-martial, 
George  the  Second  had,  with  his  own  hand,  struck 
his  name  off  the  list.  In  short,  he  displayed  such  a 
power  of  eloquence,  that  Hogarth  looked  at  him  with 
astonishment,  and  actually  imagined  that  this  idiot 
had  been  at  the  moment  inspired.  Neither  Hogarth 
nor  Johnson  were  made  known  to  each  other  at  this 
interview. 
In  1740  he  wrote  for  the  Gentleman' »  Magazine  the 

*  Preface,'  'The  Life  of  Admiral  Blake,'  and  the 
first    part    of   those   of    *Sir    Francis    Drake,'    and 

*  Philip  Barretier,'  both  which  he  finished  the  follow- 
ing year.  He  also  wrote  an  *  Essay  on  Epitaphs,' 
and  an  '  Epitaph  on  Phillips,  a  Musician,'  which  was 
afterwards  published,  with  some  other  pieces  of  his, 
in  Mrs.  Williams's  Miscellanies.     This  Epitaph  is  so 

^«xquisitely  beautiful,  that  I  remember  even  Lord 
Karnes,  strangely  prejudiced  as  he  was  against  Dr. 
Johnson,  was  compelled  to  allow  it  very  high  praise. 
It  has  been  ascribed  to  Mr.  Garrick,  from  its  appearing 
at  first  with  the  signature  G ;  but  I  have  heard  Mr. 
Garrick  declare  that  it  was  written  by  Dr.  Johnson, 
and  give  the  following  account  of  the  manner  in  which 
it  was  composed.  Johnson  and  he  were  sitting 
together,  when,  amongst  other  things,  Garrick  re- 
peated an  Epitaph  upon  this  Phillips  by  a  Dr.  Wilkes^ 
in  these  words : — 


/ 


112         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1740 

'  Exalted  moI  I  whoM  hannony  ooold  pleaM 
The  love-dok  ▼irgin,  and  the  goaty  caee ; 
Could  Jarring  dlaoord,  like  Amphion,  more 
To  beauteous  order  and  harmonioot  lore ; 
Rett  here  in  peaoe,  till  angeU  bid  thee  riae. 
And  meet  thy  Uened  Savioor  in  the  ekiea.' 

Johnson  shook  his  head  at  these  commonplace 
funereal  lines,  and  said  to  Garrick,  '  I  think,  Davy,  I 
can  make  a  better.'  Then  stirring  about  his  tea  for  a 
little  while,  in  a  state  of  meditation,  he  almost  extem- 
pore produced  the  following  verses : 

'  Phillipe,  whose  touch  harmonious  oould  remove 
The  pangs  of  guilty  power  or  hapless  love ; 
Best  here,  distress'd  by  poverty  no  more. 
Here  find  that  calm  thou  gav'st  so  oft  before ; 
Sleep,  nndisturb'd,  within  this  peaceful  shrine. 
Till  angels  wake  thee  with  a  note  like  thine ! '  * 


>  [The  Epiuph  of  Phillips  u  in  the  porch  of  Wolverfasmpton  Church. 
The  prose  pert  of  it  is  curious : 

'  Near  this  place  lies 

Charles  Claudius  Phillips, 

NVTjose  absolute  contempt  of  riches  _ 

And  inimitable  performances  upon  the  violin, 

made  him  the  admiration  of  all  that  knew  him. 

He  was  bom  in  Wales, 

made  the  tour  of  Europe, 

and,  Sifter  the  experience  of  both  kinds  of  fortune, 

Died  in  1733. 

Mr.  Garrick  appears  not  to  have  recited  the  verses  correctlv,  the 
original  being  as  follows.  One  of  the  various  readings  is  remarkable, 
as  It  is  the  germ  of  Johnson's  concluding  line : 

'  Exalted  soul,  thy  various  sounds  could  please 
The  love-ack  virgin,  and  the  gouty  «Lse ; 
Could  jarring  crowds,  like  o/<z  Amphion,  move 
To  beauteous  order  and  harmonious  love ; 
Rest  here  in  peace,  till  angels  bid  thee  rise, 
And  meet  thy  Saviour's  consort  in  the  skies.' 
Dr.  Wilkes,   the  author   of  these  lines,   was  a  Fellow  of  Trinity 
College,    in    Oxford,    and   rector    of   Pitchford,    in    Shropshire :    he 
collected  materials  for  a  history  of  that  county,  and  is  spoken  of  by 
Brown  Willis  in  his  History  0/  Mitrtd  Abbics,  vol.  ii.  p.  189.    But  be 


^T.  32]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         113 

At  the  same  time  that  Mr.  Garrick  favoured  me 
with  this  anecdote^  he  repeated  a  very  pointed  epigram 
by  Johnson,  on  George  the  Second  and  CoUey  Gibber, 
which  has  never  yet  appeared,  and  of  which  I  know 
not  the  exact  date.  Dr.  Johnson  afterwards  gave  it 
to  me  himself: 

*  AuguBtiu  still  STirvives  in  Maro's  strain. 
And  Spenser's  verse  prolongs  Eliza's  reign ; 
Great  George's  acts  let  tuneful  Gibber  sing ; 
For  Nature  formed  the  Poet  for  the  King.' 

In  1741  he  wrote  for  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  the 
*  Preface,'  *  Conclusion  of  his  Lives  of  Drake  and 
Barretier,'  '  A  free  Translation  of  the  Jests  (rf  Hiero- 
cles,  with  an  Introduction ' ;  and,  I  think,  the  follow- 
ing pieces :  *  Debate  on  the  Proposal  of  Parliament 
to  Cromwell,  to  assume  the  Title  of  King,  abridged, 
modified,  and  digested';  ^  *  Translation  of  Abbe  Guyon's 
Dissertation  on  the  Amazons'",  'Translation  of  Fon- 
tenelle's  Panegyric  on  Dr.  Morin.'  Two  notes  upon 
this  appear  to  me  undoubtedly  his.  He  this  year, 
and  the  two  following,  wrote  the  Parliamentary  De- 
bates. He  told  me  himself,  that  he  was  the  sole  com- 
poser of  them  for  those  three  years  only.  He  was 
not,  however,  precisely  exact  in  his  statement,  which 
he  mentioned  from  hasty  recollection  ;  for  it  is  sufiB- 
ciently  evident  that  his  composition  of  them  began 
November  19,  1740,  and  ended  February  23,  1742-3. 

It  appears  from  some  of  Cave's  letters  to  Dr.  Birch, 


was  a  native  of  StaSbrdsbire ;  and  to  the  antiquities  of  that  countj 
was  his  attention  chiefly  confined.  Mr.  Shaw  has  bad  the  use  of  bu 
papers. — J.  Blakewav.) 

I  [It  is  very  curious  if  this  famous  debate  was  really  the  composition 
of  Johnson.    Dr.  Hill  sees  bis  band  in  it. — A.  B.] 


VOL.  1. 


114         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1741 

that  Cave  had  better  assistance  for  that  branch  of  hi* 
Magazine  than  has  been  generally  supposed  ;  and  that 
he  was  indefatigable  in  getting  it  made  as  perfect  as 
he  could. 

Thus,  21st  July  1735 :  *  I  trouble  you  with  the  en- 
closed, because  you  said  you  could  easily  correct  what 

is  here  given  for  Lord  C Id's  speech.     I  beg  you 

will  do  so  as  soon  as  you  can  for  me,  because  the  month 
is  far  advanced.' 

And  16th  July  1737  :  *  As  you  remember  the  debates 
so  far  as  to  perceive  the  speeches  already  printed  are 
not  exact,  I  beg  the  favour  that  you  will  peruse  the 
enclosed,  and,  in  the  best  manner  your  memory  will 
serve,  correct  the  mistaken  passages,  or  add  anything 
that  is  omitted.  I  should  be  very  glad  to  have  some- 
thing of  the  Duke  of  N le's  speech,  which  would 

be  particularly  of  service. 

*  A  gentleman  has  Lord  Bathurst's  speech  to  add 
something  to.' 

And  July  3,  1744 :  *  You  will  see  what  stupid,  low, 
abominable  stuff  is  put  *  upon  your  noble  and  learned 
friend's  *  character,  such  as  I  should  quite  reject,  and 
endeavour  to  do  something  better  towards  doing  jus- 
tice to  the  character.  But  as  I  cannot  expect  to  attain 
my  desire  in  that  respect,  it  would  be  a  great  satis- 
faction, as  well  as  an  honour  to  our  work,  to  have  the 
favour  of  the  genuine  speech.  It  is  a  method  that 
several  have  been  pleased  to  take,  as  I  could  show, 
but  I  think  myself  under  a  restraint  I  shall  say  so 
far,  that  I  have  had  some  by  a  third  hand,  which  I 
understood  well  enough  to  come  from  the  first ;  others 


1  I  suppose  in  another  compilation  in  the  same  Idnd. 
S  Doubtless  Lord  Hardwicke. 


iET.  32]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         116 

by  penny  post,  and  others  by  the  speakers  themselves, 
who  have  been  pleased  to  visit  St  John's  Gate,  and 
show  particular  marks  of  their  being  pleased.'  ^ 

There  is  no  reason,  I  believe,  to  doubt  the  veracity 
of  Cave.  It  is,  however,  remarkable,  that  none  of 
these  letters  are  in  the  years  during  which  Johnson 
alone  furnished  the  Debates,  and  one  of  them  is  in  the 
very  year  after  he  ceased  from  that  labour.  Johnson 
told  me,  that  as  soon  as  he  found  that  the  speeches 
were  thought  genuine,  he  determined  that  he  would 
write  no  more  of  them  ;  '  for  he  would  not  be  acces- 
sory to  the  propagation  of  falsehood.'  And  such  was 
the  tenderness  of  his  conscience,  that  a  short  time 
before  his  death,  he  expressed  his  reg^^t  for  his  having 
been  the  author  of  fictions,  which  had  passed  for 
realities. 

He  nevertheless  agreed  with  me  in  thinking  that 
the  debates  which  he  had  framed  were  to  be  valued  as 
orations  upon  questions  of  public  importance.  They 
have  accordingly  been  collected  in  volumes,  properly 
arranged,  and  recommended  to  the  notice  of  parlia- 
mentary speakers  by  a  preface,  written  by  no  inferior 
hand.*  I  must,  however,  observe,  that  although  there 
IS  in  these  debates  a  wonderful  store  of  political  infor- 
mation, and  very  powerful  eloquence,  I  cannot  agree 
that  they  exhibit  the  manner  of  each  particular  speaker, 
as  Sir  John  Hawkins  seems  to  think.  But,  indeed, 
what  opinion  can  we  have  of  his  judgment  and  taste 
in  public  speaking,  who  presumes  to  give,  as  the 
characteristics  of  two  celebrated  orators,  '  the  deep- 


1  Birch' t  MSS.  in  the  British  Museum,  4303. 

>  I  am  assured  that  the  editor  is  Mr.  George  Chalmers,  whose  com- 
mercial works  are  well  known  and  esteemed. 


116         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1742 

mouthed  rancour  of  Pulteney,  and  the  yelping  per- 
tinacity of  Pitt,'  * 

This  year  I  find  that  his  tragedy  of  Irene  had  been 
fur  some  time  ready  for  the  stiige,  and  that  his  neces- 
sities made  him  desirous  of  getting  as  much  as  he  could 
for  itj  without  delay ;  for  there  is  the  following  letter 
from  Mr.  Cave  to  Dr.  Birch,  in  the  same  volume  of 
manuscripts  in  the  British  Museum,  from  which  I 
copied  those  above  quoted.  They  were  most  oblig- 
ingly pointed  out  to  me  by  Sir  William  Musgrave,  one 
of  the  curators  of  that  noble  repository  : 

'Sept.  9,  1741. 
'  I  have  put  Mr.  Johnson's  play  into  Bir.  Gray's  *  bands,  in 
order  to  sell  it  to  him,  if  be  is  inclined  to  buy  it ;  but  I  doubt 
whether  he  will  or  not.  He  wonld  dispose  of  the  copy,  and 
whatever  advantage  may  be  made  by  acting  it.  Would  your 
society,*  or  any  gentleman,  or  body  of  men  that  you  know, 
take  such  a  bargain  ?  He  and  I  are  mj  unfit  to  deal  with 
theatrical  persons.  Fleetwood  was  to  have  acted  it  last 
season,  bat  Johnson's  diffidence  or  *  prevented  it' 

I  have  already  mentioned  that  Irene  was  not 
brought  into  public  notice  till  Garrick  was  manager 
of  Drury  Lane  theatre. 

In  1742"  he  wrote  for  the  Gentleman's  Magazine 

*  Hawkins's  Ltyi  of  JokntOH,  p.  loo. 
S  A  bookseller  of  London. 

•  Not  the  Royal  Society,  but  the  Society  for  the  enconrafemeot  of 
learning,  of  which  Dr.  Birch  was  a  leading  member.  Their  object  was 
to  assist  authors  in  printing  expensive  works.  It  existed  from  about 
173s  to  1746,  when,  having  incurred  a  coosderable  debt,  it  was 
dissolved. 

*  There  is  no  erasure  here,  but  a  mere  blank,  to  fill  up  which  may 
be  an  exercise  for  ingenious  conjecture. 

•  [From  one  of  hb  letters  to  a  friend,  written  in  June  174a,  it  should 
leem  that  he  then  proposed  to  write  a  play  on  the  subject  of  Charles 
the  Twelfth  of  Sweden,  and  to  have  it  ready  for  the  ensuing  winter. 
The  passage  alluded  to,  however,  is  somewhat  ambiguous ;  and  the 
work  which  he  then  had  in  contemplation  may  have  l^en  a  history  of 
that  monarch. — M.] 


iET.  33]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         117 

the  *  Preface,'  the  *  Parliamentary  Debates/  '  Essay 
on  the  Account  of  the  Conduct  of  the  Duchess  of 
Marlborough,'  then  the  popular  topic  of  conversation. 
This  essay  is  a  short  but  masterly  performance.  We 
find  him  in  No.  13  of  his  Rambler,  censuring  a  profli- 
gate sentiment  in  that  '  Account,'  and  again  insisting 
upon  it  strenuously  in  conversation.^  *  An  Account  of 
the  Life  of  Peter  Burman,'  I  believe  chiefly  taken  from 
a  foreign  publication,  as  indeed  he  could  not  himself 
know  much  about  Burman  ;  *  Additions  to  his  Life  of 
Barretier';  'The  Life  of  Sydenham,'  afterwards  pre- 
fixed to  Dr.  Swan's  edition  of  his  works ;  '  Proposals 
for  printing  BibliothecaHarleiana,  or  a  Catalogue  of  the 
Library  of  the  Earl  of  Oxford.'  His  account  of  that 
celebrated  collection  of  books,  in  which  he  displays 
the  importance  to  literature,  of  what  the  French  call 
a  catalogue  raisonne,  when  the  subjects  of  it  are  exten- 
sive and  various,  and  it  is  executed  with  ability,  cannot 
fail  to  impress  all  his  readers  with  admiration  of  his 
philological  attainments.  It  was  afterwards  prefixed 
to  the  first  volume  of  the  Catalogue,  in  which  the 
Latin  accounts  of  books  were  written  by  him.  He 
was  employed  in  this  business  by  Mr.  Thomas  Osborne 
the  bookseller,  who  purchased  tlie  library  for  £13,000, 
a  sum  which,  Mr.  Oldys  says  in  one  of  his  manuscripts, 
was  not  more  than  the  binding  of  the  books  had  cost ; 
yet,  as  Dr.  Johnson  assured  me,  the  slowness  of  the 
sale  was  such  that  there  was  not  much  gained  by  it. 
It  has  been  confidently  related,  with  many  embellish- 
ments, that  Johnson  one  day  knocked  Osborne  down 
in  his  shop  with  a  folio,  and  put  his  foot  upon  his 
neck.     The  simple  truth  I  had  from  Johnson  himself. 

i  Jeumal  tfa  Tonr  U  tht  Htbridit, 


118         LIFE   OF  DR.    JOHNSON       [174a 

'Sir,  he  was  impertinent  to  me,  and  I  beat  him.  But 
it  was  not  in  his  shop :  it  was  in  my  own  chamber.' 

A  very  diligent  observer  may  trace  him  where  we 
should  not  easily  suppose  him  to  be  found.  I  have  no 
doubt  that  he  wrote  the  little  abridgment  entitled 
'Foreign  History'  in  the  Magazine  for  December. 
To  prove  it,  I  shall  quote  the  Introduction  :  '  As  this 
is  that  season  of  the  year  in  which  Nature  may  be 
said  to  command  a  suspension  of  hostilities,  and  which 
■eems  intended,  by  putting  a  short  stop  to  violence 
and  slaughter,  to  afford  time  for  malice  to  relent,  and 
animosity  to  subside,  we  can  scarce  expect  any  other 
account  than  of  plans,  negotiations,  and  treaties,  of 
proposals  for  peace  and  preparations  for  war.'  As  also 
this  passage  : — '  Let  Uiose  who  despise  the  capacity  of 
the  Swiss  tell  us  by  what  wonderful  policy  or  by  what 
happy  conciliation  of  interests  it  is  brought  to  pass 
that  in  a  body  made  up  of  different  communities  and 
different  religions  there  should  be  no  civil  commotions, 
though  the  people  are  so  warlike  that  to  nominate  and 
raise  an  army  is  the  same.' 

I  am  obliged  to  Mr.  Astle  for  his  ready  permission 
to  copy  the  two  following  letters,  of  which  the  originals 
are  in  his  possession.  Their  contents  show  that  they 
were  written  about  this  time,  and  that  Johnson  was 
now  engaged  in  preparing  an  historical  account  of  the 
British  Parliament : 

TO  HR.  CAVE 

[NodaU.] 
'  Sir, — I  believe  I  am  going  to  write  a  long  letter,  and  have 

therefore  taken  a  whole  sheet  of  paper.    The  first  thing  to  be 

written  about  is  our  historical  design. 

'  You  mentioned  the  proposal  of  printing  in  numbers,  as  an 

alteration  in  the  scheme,  bat  I  believe  you  mistook,  some  way 


iET.  33]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  119 

or  other,  my  meaning ;  I  had  no  other  view  than  that  you 
might  rather  print  too  many  of  five  sheets  than  of  £ive-and- 
thirty. 

'  With  regard  to  what  I  shall  say  on  the  manner  of  pro- 
ceeding, I  would  have  it  understood  as  wholly  indifferent 
to  me,  and  my  opinion  only,  not  my  resolution.  Emptoris 
tit  eligere. 

*  I  think  the  insertion  of  the  exact  dates  of  the  most  impor- 
tant events  in  the  margin,  or  of  so  many  events  as  may  enable 
the  reader  to  regulate  the  order  of  facts  with  sufficient  exact- 
ness, the  proper  medium  between  a  journal  which  has  regard 
only  to  time  and  a  history  which  ranges  facts  according  to 
their  dependence  on  each  other,  and  postpones  or  anticipates 
according  to  the  convenience  of  narration.  I  think  the  work 
ought  to  partake  of  the  spirit  of  history,  which  is  contrary  to 
minute  exactness,  and  of  the  regularity  of  a  journal,  which  is 
inconsistent  with  spirit.  For  this  reason,  I  neither  admit 
numbers  or  dates,  nor  reject  them. 

'  I  am  of  your  opinion  with  regard  to  placing  most  of  the 
resolutions,  etc.,  in  the  margin,  and  think  we  shall  give  the 
most  complete  account  of  parliamentary  proceedings  that 
can  be  contrived.  The  naked  papers,  without  an  historical 
treatise  interwoven,  require  some  other  book  to  make  them 
understood.  I  will  date  the  succeeding  facts  with  some 
exactness,  bat  I  think  in  the  margin.  You  told  me  on  Satur- 
day that  I  had  received  money  on  this  work,  and  found  set 
down  £13,  2b.  6d.,  reckoning  the  half -guinea  of  last  Saturday. 
As  you  hinted  to  me  that  you  had  many  calls  for  money,  I 
would  not  press  you  too  hard,  and  therefore  shall  desire  only, 
4  •■  I  send  it  in,  two  guineas  for  a  sheet  of  copy  ;  the  rest  you 
may  pay  me  when  it  may  be  more  convenient ;  and  even  by 
this  sheet-payment  I  shall,  for  some  time,  be  very  expensive. 
'  The  Life  of  Savage  I  am  ready  to  go  upon  ;  and  in  great 
primer,  and  pica  notes,  I  reckon  on  sending  in  half  a  sheet 
a  day  ;  but  the  money  for  that  shall  likewise  lie  by  in  your 
hands  till  it  is  done.  With  the  debates,  shall  not  I  hava 
business  enough  ?    If  I  had  but  good  pens  ! 

*  Towards  Mr.  Savage's  Life,  what  more  have  you  got  ?  I 
would  willingly  have  his  trial,  etc.,  and  know  whether  hia 
defence  be  at  Bristol,  and  would  have  his  collection  of  poems. 


120         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1743 

on  Mooant  of  the  Pr«faee ;— Th«  Plain  Dealer,^— til  the  mac<^ 
KioM  that  have  anTthiog  of  bu  or  relating  to  him. 

'  I  thoogbt  my  letter  would  be  long,  but  it  is  now  ended ; 
and  I  am,  sir,  youn,  etc.  Sax.  Joamov.' 

'  Tbe  boj  found  me  writing  tbia  almoet  in  tbe  dark,  whea 
I  could  not  quite  eaiily  read  jourt. 

*  I  have  reiul  tbe  Italian :— nothing  in  it  ia  well. 

*  I  had  no  noUon  of  having  anything  for  the  inaeription.* 
I  hope  jon  don't  think  I  kept  it  to  extort  a  price.  I  could 
think  of  nothing  till  to-daj.  If  you  could  spare  me  another 
guinea  for  the  history,  I  should  take  it  very  kindly,  to-night ; 
but  if  you  do  not,  I  shall  not  think  it  an  injury. — I  am 
almost  well  again.' 

TO  KB.  CAVE 

'Snt, — You  did  not  tell  me  your  determination  about  the 
Soldier's  Letter*  which  I  am  confident  was  never  printed.  I 
think  it  will  not  do  by  itself,  or  in  any  other  place,  so  well  as 
the  Mag.  Extraordinary.  If  yon  will  have  it  all,  I  believe 
you  do  not  think  I  set  it  high,  and  I  will  be  glad  if  what  you 
give  you  will  give  quickly. 

'  You  need  not  be  in  care  about  something  to  print,  for  I 
have  got  tbe  State  Triah^  and  shall  extract  Layer,  Atterbury, 
and  Macclesfield  from  them,  and  shall  bring  them  to  you  in  a 
fortnight,  after  which  I  will  try  to  get  the  South  Sea  Report.' 

[2fo  date,  nor  signature,} 

I  would  also  ascribe  to  him  an  '  Essay  on  the  De- 
scription of  China,  from  the  French  of  Du  Halde.' 

His  writings  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  in  1743 
are  the  *  Preface,'  the  '  Parliamentary  Debates,'  *  Con- 
siderations on  the  Dispute  between  Crousaz  and  War- 
burton  on  Pope's  Essay  on  Man,'  in  which,  while  he 
defends  Crousaz,  he  shows  an  admirable  metaphysical 
acuteness  and  temperance  in  controversy ;  'Ad  Lauram 

1  The  Plain  Dealer  was  published  in  X724,  and  contained  some 
account  of  Savage. 
8  [Perhaps  the  Runic  inscription.     GtHt.  Mag,  voL  »L  p.  13a, — M.] 
*  I  have  not  discovered  what  this  was. 


jET.  34]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  121 

parituram  Epigramma';^  and  'A  Latin  Translation  of 
Pope's  Verses  on  his  Grotto ' ;  and,  as  he  could  employ 


1  Angliacat  inter ^Icktrrima  LaurmfntUtu, 
Mox  Mttri pondus  dtpotitura  gyavt, 
Adiit,  Laura,  tibifacilis  Lucina  doUnti, 
AVp«  tibi  noctat  prttnituisit  Dttt. 

Mr.  Hector  wat  present  when  this  Epigram  was  made  im^omptn. 
The  first  line  was  proposed  by  Dr.  JaBtes,  and  Johnson  was  called  upon 
by  the  company  to  finish  it,  which  ne  instantly  did. 

[The  following  elegant  Latin  Ode,  which  appeared  in  the  Gentle- 
man't  Magaxiiu  for  1743  (y^^  xiiL  p.  548X  vras  many  years  ago 
pointed  out  to  James  Bindley,  Esq.,  as  written  by  Johnson,  and  may 
safely  be  attributed  to  him  : 

AD  ORNATISSIMAM  PUXIXAIC 

Van;b  sit  arti,  ut  studio  modus, 
Formosa  virgo  1  sit  speculo  (juies, 
Curamque  qncrenai  decons 
Mitte,  supervactiosque  cultni. 

Ut  fortuitis  vema  coloribus 
Depicta  vulgo  nira  magis  placent. 
Nee  invident  horto  nitenti 
Divitias  operosiores : 

Lenique  fons  ctun  murmure  pulcnor 
Obliquat  ultra  przcipitem  fugam 
Inter  reluctantes  lapillos,  et 
Dudt  aquas  temere  sequentes : 

Utque  inter  undas,  inter  et  arbores. 
Jam  vcre  primo  dulce  strepunt  aves, 
£t  arte  nulla  gratiores 
Ingeminant  sine  lege  cantos : 

Nativa  sic  te  gratia,  te  nitor 
'■  Simplex  decebit,  te  Veneres  ttUB ; 

Nudus  Cupido  suspicatur 
Artifices  nimis  apparatus. 

Ergo  fluentem  to,  male  sedula, 
Ne  steva  inuras  semper  acu  comam  ; 
Nee  sparsa  odorato  nitentes 
Pulvere  dedecores  capillos ; 

Quales  nee  olim  vel  Ptolenueta 

Jactabat  uxor,  sidereo  in  chore 

Utcimque  devotae  refulgent 

Verticis  exuviae  decori ; 

Nee  diva  mater,  cum  similem  tuas  _ 
Mentita  formam,  et  pulcrior  adspici, 
Permisit  incomtas  protervis 
Fusa  comas  agitare  ventis. 

In  ToL  «▼.  p.  46,  of  the  same  work,  an  elegant  Epigram  was  insertedi 


122         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1743 

his  pen  with  equal  luccess  upon  a  small  niatter  as  a 
great,  I  suppose  him  to  be  the  author  of  an  adver- 
tisement for  Osborne,  concerning  the  great  Harleian 
Catalogue. 

But  I  should  think  myself  much  wanting,  both  to 
my  illustrious  friend  and  my  readers,  did  I  not  intro- 
duce here,  with  more  than  ordinary  respect,  an  ex- 
quisitely beautiful  Ode,  which  has  not  been  inserted 
in  any  of  the  collections  of  Johnson's  poetry,  written 
by  him  at  a  very  early  period,  as  Mr.  Hector  informs 
me,  and  inserted  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  of  this 
year: 

Friendship:  an  Ode. 

FKranmaar,  peculiar  boon  of  heaven. 
The  noble  mind'ii  delight  and  pride. 

To  men  and  angeU  only  given. 
To  all  the  lower  world  denied. 

While  love  unknown  among  the  blest. 
Parent  of  thousand  wild  desires, 
.  The  savage  and  the  human  breast 
Torments  alike  with  raging  fires ; 

With  bright,  but  oft  destructive,  gleam. 

Alike  o'er  all  his  lightnings  fly  ; 
Thy  lambent  glories  only  beam 

Around  the  favorites  of  the  sky. 

Thy  gentle  flows  of  guiltless  joys 
On  fools  and  villains  ne'er  descend : 

In  vain  for  thee  the  tyrant  sighs. 
And  hugs  a  flatterer  for  a  friend. 


in  answer  to  the  foregoing  Ode,  which  was  written  by  Dr.  InyoD  of 
Norfolk,  a  pby-sidan,  and  an  excellent  classical  scholar : 

AD  AUTHORKM  CARMINIS  AD  ORNATISSIHAM  PCELLAM. 

O  cui  non  potuit,  quia  culta,  placere  puella. 
Qui  speras  Musam  posse  placere  tuam  1 — M.] 


iET.  34]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  123 

Directress  of  the  brave  and  jost, 
O  guide  us  through  life's  darksome  way  ! 

And  let  the  tortures  of  mistrust 
On  selfish  bosoms  only  prey. 

Nor  shall  thine  ardour  cease  to  glow, 
When  souls  to  bUssf  ul  climes  remove : 

What  raised  our  virtue  hero  below, 
Shall  aid  our  happiness  above. 

Johnson  had  now  an  opportunity  of  obliging  his 
schoolfellow.  Dr.  James,  of  whom  he  once  observed, 
'  no  man  brings  more  mind  to  his  profession.'  James 
published  this  year  his  Medicinal  Dictionary,  in  three 
volumes  fulio.  Johnson,  as  I  understood  from  him, 
had  written,  or  assisted  in  writing,  the  proposals  for 
this  work  ;  and  being  very  fond  of  the  study  of  physic, 
in  which  James  was  his  master,  he  furnished  some 
of  the  articles.  He,  however,  certainly  wrote  for  it 
the  Dedication  to  Dr.  Mead,  which  is  conceived  with 
great  address,  to  conciliate  the  patronage  of  that  very 
eminent  man. ' 

It  has  been  circulated,  I  know  not  mth  what  authen- 
ticity, that  Johnson  considered  Dr.  Birch  as  a  dull 
I  writer,  and  said  of  him,  '  Tom  Birch  is  as  brisk  as  a 
bee  in  conversation  ;  but  no  sooner  does  he  take  a  pen 
in  his  hand  than  it  becomes  a  torpedo  to  him,  and 
benumbs  all  his  faculties.'    That  the  literature  of  this 


1  TO  OK.   MKAD. 

•  Sir,— That  the  Medicimal  Dictionary  is  dedicated  to  you  is  to  be 
imputed  only  to  your  reputation  for  superior  skill  in  those  sciences 
which  I  have  endeavoured  to  explain  and  facilitate  ;  and  you  are, 
therefore,  to  consider  this  address,  if  it  be  agreeable  to  you,  as  one  of 
the  rewards  of  merit ;  and  if  otherwise,  as  one  of  the  inconveniences  of 
eminence. 

'  However  you  shall  receive  it,  my  design  cannot  be  disappomted  ; 
because  this  public  appeal  to  your  judgment  will  show  that  I  do  not 
found  my  hopes  of  approbation  upon  the  ignorance  of  ray  readers,  and 
that  I  fear  his  censure  least  whose  knowledge  is  most  extensive.— I  am, 
sir,  your  most  obedient  humble  servant,  R-  James. 


124         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1743 

country  is  much  indebted  to  Birch's  activity  and  dili- 
gence must  certainly  be  acknowledged.  We  have  seen 
that  Johnson  honoured  him  with  a  Greek  Epigram ; 
and  his  correspondence  with  him  during  many  yean 
proves  that  he  had  no  mean  opinion  of  him. 

TO   DB.  BIRCH 

'  Thwtday,  Sept.  29,  1743w 
'Sia, — I  hope  70a  will  cxouae  me  for  troubling  you  on 
an  oooMion  on  which  I  know  not  whom  ebe  I  can  apply  to  ; 
I  am  at  a  losa  for  the  LJves  and  Charactera  of  Earl  Stanhope, 
the  two  Craggs,  and  the  miniater  Sonderland ;  and  beg  that 
you  will  inform  [me]  where  I  may  find  them,  and  send  any 
pamphlets,  etc.,  relating  to  them  to  &Ir.  Cave,  to  be  peroaed 
for  a  few  days  by,  sir,  your  most  bumble  servant, 

'  Sax.  Johksov.' 

His  circumstances  were  at  this  time  embarrassed ; 
yet  his  affection  for  his  mother  was  so  warm  and  so 
liberal  that  he  took  upon  himself  a  debt  of  hers  which, 
though  small  in  itself,  was  then  considerable  to  him. 
This  appears  from  the  following  letter  which  he  wrote 
to  Mr.  Levett  of  Lichfield,  the  original  of  which  lies 
now  before  me : 

TO   MS.  LEVETT,    Ilf  UCHFIELD 

'Decemherl,  1743. 
*Sia, — I  am  extremely  sorry  that  we  have  encroached  so 
much  upon  your  forbearance  with  respect  to  the  interest,  which 
a  great  perplexity  of  affairs  hindered  me  from  thinking  of 
with  that  attention  that  I  ought,  and  which  I  am  not  imme* 
diately  able  to  remit  to  you,  but  will  pay  it  (I  think  twelve 
poimds)  in  two  months.  I  look  upon  this,  and  on  the  future 
interest  of  that  mortgage,  as  my  own  debt ;  and  beg  that  you 
will  be  pleased  to  give  me  directions  .how  to  pay  it,  and  not 
mention  it  to  my  dear  mother.  If  it  be  necessary  to  pay  this 
in  a  less  time,  I  believe  I  can  do  it ;  but  I  take  two  months 
for  certainty,  and  beg  an  answer  whether  you  can  allow  me  so 


^T.  34]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         125 

much  time.  I  think  myself  very  much  obliged  to  your  for- 
bearance, and  shall  esteem  it  a  great  happiness  to  be  able  to 
serve  you.  I  have  great  opportunities  of  dispersing  anything 
that  you  may  think  it  proper  to  make  public.  I  will  give  a 
note  for  the  money,  payable  at  the  time  mentioned,  to  any  one 
here  that  you  shall  appoint. — I  am,  sir,  your  most  obedient 
and  most  humble  servant,  Sax.  Johnson. 

*  At  Mr.  Osborne's,  bookseller,  in  Gray's  Inn.' 

It  does  not  appear  that  he  wrote  anything  in  1744 
for  the  Gentleman*  Magazine,  hut  the  *  Preface.'  His 
Life  of  Barretier  was  now  repuhlished  in  a  pamphlet 
by  itself.  But  he  produced  one  work  this  year,  fully 
sufficient  to  maintain  the  high  reputation  which  he 
had  acquired.  This  was  the  Life  of  Richard  Savage  ; 
a  man  of  whom  it  is  difficult  to  speak  impartially, 
without  wondering  that  he  was  for  some  time  the 
intimate  companion  of  Johnson ;  for  his  character  ^ 
was  marked  by  profligacy,  insolence,  and  ingratitude ; 
yet,  as  he  undoubtedly  had  a  warm  and  vigorous, 
though  unregulated  mind,  had  seen  life  in  all  its 
varieties,  and  been  much  in  the  company  of  the  states- 
men and  wits  of  his  time,  he  could  communicate  to 
Johnson  an  abundant  supply  of  such  materials  as  his 
*  ^' -philosophical  curiosity  most  eagerly  desired  ;  and,  as 
Savage's  misfortunes  and  misconduct  had  reduced  him 
to  the  lowest  state  of  wretchedness  as  a  writer  for  his 


1  As  a  specimen  of  bis  temper,  I  insert  the  following  letter  from  him 
to  a  noble  Lord,  to  whom  he  was  under  great  obligations,  but  whOj  on 
account  of  his  bad  conduct,  was  obliged  to  discard  him.  The  original 
was  in  the  hands  of  the  late  Francis  Cockayne  Cust,  Esq.,  one  of  his 
Majesty's  Counsel  learned  in  the  law : — 

'Right  Honourable  Brutb  and  Booby, — I  find  you  want  (as 

Mr. is  pleased  to  hint)  to  swear  away  my  life,  that  is,  the  life  of 

your  creditor,  because  he  asks  you  for  a  debt.  The  public  shall  soon 
be  acquainted  with  this,  to  judge  whether  you  are  not  fitter  to  be  an 
Irish  Evidence,  than  to  be  an  Irish  Peer.  I  defy  and  despise  you. — I 
am,  your  determined  adversar>',  K.  S.' 


126         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1744 

bread,  his  visit  to  St  John's  Gate  naturally  brought 
Johnson  and  him  together.' 

It  is  melancholy  to  reflect  that  Johnson  and  Savage 
were  sometimes  in  such  extreme  indigence  '  that  they 
could  not  pay  for  a  lodging ;  so  that  they  have  iran« 
dered  together  whole  nights  in  the  streets.'  Yet  in 
these  almost  incredible  scenes  of  distress,  we  may 
suppose  that  Savage  mentioned  many  of  the  anecdotes 
with  which  Johnson  afterwards  enriciied  the  life  of 
this  unhappy  companion,  and  those  of  other  poets. 


1  Sir  John  Hawkins  gives  tbe  world  to  andervund  that  JobMoo, 
'bring  an  admirer  of  genteel  manners,  was  captivated  by  tbe  addreas 
and  demeanour  of  Savage,  who,  as  to  his  exterior,  was  to  a  remarkabi* 
degree  accomplished.'— Hawkins's  Li/t,  p.  5a.  But  Sir  John's  notions 
of  gentility  must  appear  somewhat  ludicrous,  from  hu  stating  ih« 
following  circumstance  as  presumptive  evidence  that  Savage  was  a 
good  swordsman  :  '  That  be  understood  tbe  exercise  of  a  gentleman's 
weapon  mav  be  inferred  from  the  use  made  of  it  In  that  rash  encounter 
which  is  related  in  his  life.'  Tbe  dexterity  here  alluded  to  was,  that 
Savage,  in  a  nocturnal  fit  of  drunkenness,  stabbed  a  man  at  a  coffee- 
bouse  and  killed  him :  for  which  be  was  tried  at  the  Old  Bailey,  and 
found  guilty  of  murder. 

Johnson,  indeed,  describes  him  as  having  '  a  grave  and  manly  de- 
portment, a  solemn  dignity  of  mien  ;  but  which,  upon  a  nearer  acouaint- 
•nee,  softened  into  an  engaging  easiness  of  manners/  How  oighlv 
Johnson  admired  him  for  that  knowledge  which  be  himself  so  much 
cultivated,  and  what  kindness  he  entertained  for  him,  appears  from  tbe 
following  lines  in  the  GtntUman  t  Magamiu  for  Apru  1758,  which  I 
«m  assured  were  written  by  Johnson : 

Ad  RiCARDtJM  Savagk. 
Hutnani  st-udium  gentrii  cut  ptctore  fervttf 
O  colat  hutHonum  te/oveat jut  genus. 

•  [The  following  striking  proof  of  Johnson's  extreme  indiMice  when 
be  published  the  Lt'/t  of  Savage,  w^s  communicated  to  Mr._Boswell  by 
Mr.  Richard  Stowe,  of  Apsley,  in  Bedfordshire,  from  tbe  information 
of  Mr.  Walter  Harte,  author  of  the  Ltl/ie  o/Gustavut  Adolphus  : 

'Soon  after  Savage's  Life  was  published,  Mr.  Harte  dined  with 
Edward  Cave,  and  occasionally  praised  it.  Soon  after,  meeting  him, 
Cave  said, '  You  made  a  man  very  happy  t'other  day.' — '  How  could  that 
be  ? '  says  Harte ;  '  nobody  was  there  but  ourselves.'  Cave  answered 
by  reminding  him  that  a  plate  of  victuals  was  sent  behind  a  screen, 
which  was  to  Johnson,  dressed  so  shabbily,  that  he  did  not  choose  to 
appear ;  but  on  hearing  the  conversation,  he  was  highly  delighted  with 
the  encomiums  on  his  book." — M.] 

'  [As  Johnson  was  married  before  he  settled  in  London,  and  must  have 
Always  had  a  habitation  for  his  wife,  some  readers  have  wondered  how 


iET.  35]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  127 

He  told  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  that  one  night  in 
particular,  when  Savage  and  he  walked  round  St. 
James's  Square  for  waut  of  a  lodging,  they  were  not 
at  all  depressed  by  their  situation  ;  but  in  high  spirits 
and  brimful  of  patriotism,  traversed  the  square  for 
several  hours,  inveighed  against  the  minister,  and 
'resolved  they  would  stand  by  their  country.' 

I  am  afraid,  however,  that  by  associating  with 
Savage,  who  was  habituated  to  the  dissipation  and 
licentiousness  of  the  town,  Johnson,  though  his  good 
principles  remained  steady,  did  not  entirely  preserve 
that  conduct  for  which,  in  days  of  greater  simplicity, 
he  was  remarked  by  his  friend  Mr.  Hector ;  but  was 
imperceptibly  led  into  some  indulgences  which  occa- 
sioned much  distress  to  his  virtuous  mind. 

That  Johnson  was  anxious  that  an  authentic  and 
&vourable  account  of  his  extraordinary  friend  should 
first  get  possession  of  the  public  attention,  is  evident 
from  a  letter  which  he  wrote  in  the  Gentleman's 
Magazine  for  August  of  the  year  preceding  its  publi- 
cation: 

4  '  MB.UBBAir, — Am  yonr  oolleotions  show  how  often  you  have 
owed  the  ornaments  of  your  poetical  pages  to  the  correspond- 
ence of  the  unfortunate  and  ingenious  !Mr.  Savage,  I  doubt 
not  but  you  have  so  much  regard  to  his  memory  as  to  encourage 


he  ever  could  have  been  driven  to  stroll  about  with  Savage  all  night, 
for  want  of  a  lodging.  But  it  should  be  remembered  that  Johnson,  at 
different  periods,  had  lodgings  in  the  vicinity  of  London ;  and  his 
finances  certainly  would  not  admit  of  a  double  establishment.  When, 
therefore,  he  spent  a  convivial  day  in  London,  and  found  it  too  late  to 
return  to  an^  country  residence  he  may  occasionally  have  had,  having 
no  lodging  in  town,  he  was  obliged  to  pass  the  night  in  the  manner 
described  above ;  for,  though  at  that  period  it  was  not  uncommon  for 
two  men  to  sleep  together,  Savage,  it  appears,  could  accommodate 
him  with  nothing  but  his  company  in  the  open  air.  The  Epigram 
given  above,  which  doubtless  was  written  by  Johnson,  shows  that  their 
acquaintance  commenced  before  April  1738. — M.] 


128         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1744 

any  design  that  maj  bare  a  tendenoj  to  the  preaervatkn  of 
it  from  ineulte  or  oalumniee ;  and  therefore,  with  ■OOM  degree 
of  aMoranee,  entreat  70a  to  inform  the  pablic,  that  hi«  life 
will  epeedilj  be  pabliahed  bj  a  person  who  was  faToored  with 
hie  oonfldenoe,  and  received  from  himaelf  an  aooount  of  moet 
of  the  traneaetions  which  he  propoeee  to  mention,  to  the  time 
of  Ilia  retirement  to  Swansea  in  Wales. 

'  From  that  period  to  his  death  in  the  prison  of  Bristol,  tha 
account  will  be  continued  from  materials  still  lesa  liable  to 
objection  ;  his  own  letters,  and  those  of  his  friends,  some  of 
which  will  be  inserted  in  the  work,  and  abstraeU  of  others 
subjoined  in  the  margin. 

*  It  may  bo  reasonably  imagined  that  others  may  hare  the 
same  design ;  but  as  it  is  not  credible  tliat  they  can  obtain 
the  same  materials,  it  must  be  expected  they  will  supply  from 
invention  the  want  of  intelligence ;  and  that  under  the  title 
of  the  Life  0/  Savage,  they  will  publish  only  a  novel,  filled 
with  ronaantic  adventures  and  imaginary  amours.  You  may 
therefore,  perhaps,  gratify  the  lovers  of  truth  and  wit  by 
giving  me  leave  to  inform  them  in  your  Magazine  that  my 
account  will  be  published  in  8vo  by  Mr.  Roberts,  in  Warwidc 
Lane.'  [-^o  tyrtuUure.] 

In  February  1744,  it  accordingly  came  forth  from 
the  shop  of  Roberta,  between  whom  and  Johnson  I 
have  not  traced" any  connection,  except  the  casual  one 
of  this  publication.  In  Johnson's  Life  of  Savage,  al- 
though it  must  be  allowed  that  its  moral  is  the  reverse 
of '  Respicere  exemplar  vitce  morumque  Jubebo/  a  very 
useful  lesson  is  inculcated,  to  guard  men  of  warm 
passions  from  a  too  free  indulgence  of  them  ;  and  the 
various  incidents  are  related  in  so  clear  and  animated 
a  manner,  and  illuminated  throughout  with  so  much 
philosophy,  that  it  is  one  of  the  most  interesting 
narratives  in  the  English  language.  Sir  Joshua  Rey- 
nolds told  me,  that  upon  his  return  from  Italy  he  met 
with  it  in  Devonshire,  knowing  nothing  of  its  author. 


AT.  35]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON          129 

and  began  to  read  it  while  he  was  standing  with  his 
arm  leaning  against  a  chimney-piece.  It  seized  his 
attention  so  strongly,  that  not  being  able  to  lay  down 
the  book  till  he  had  finished  it,  when  he  attempted 
to  move,  he  found  his  arm  totally  benumbed.  The 
rapidity  with  which  this  work  was  composed  is  a 
wonderful  circumstance.  Johnson  has  been  heard  to 
Bay,  '  I  wrote  forty-eight  of  the  printed  octavo  pages 
of  the  Life  of  Savage  at  a  sitting ;  but  then  I  sat  up 
all  night' ^ 

He  exhibits  the  genius  of  Savage  to  the  best  advan- 
tage in  the  specimens  of  his  poetry  which  he  has 
selected,  some  of  which  are  of  uncommon  merit. 
We,  indeed,  occasionally  find  such  vigour  and  such 
point  as  might  make  us  suppose  that  the  generous  aid 
of  Johnson  had  been  imparted  to  his  friend.  Mr. 
Thomas  Warton  made  this  remark  to  me,  and,  in 
support  of  it,  quoted  from  the  poem  entitled  The 
Bastard  a  line  in  which  the  fancied  superiority  of 
one  '  stamped  in  Nature's  mint  M'ith  ecstasy,'  is  con- 
trasted with  a  regular  lawful  descendant  of  some  great 
and  ancient  family : 

'  No  tenth  transmitter  of  a  foolish  face.' 

But  the  fact  is  that  this  poem  was  published  some 
years  before  Johnson  and  Savage  were  acquainted. 

It  is  remarkable  that  in  this  biographical  disqui- 
sition there  appears  a  very  strong  symptom  of  John- 
son's prejudice  against  players — a  prejudice  which 
may  be  attributed  to  the  following  causes :  first,  the 
imperfection  of  his  organs,  which  were  so  defective 
that  he  was  not  susceptible  of  the  fine  impressions 

1  Journal  of  a  Tour  to  thg  Hebridtt. 
VOL.  I.  ' 


130         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1744 

which  theatrical  excellence  produces  upon  the  gener- 
ality of  mankind ;  secondly,  the  cold  rejection  of 
his  tragedy ;  and,  lastly,  the  brilliant  succew  of 
Garrick,  who  had  been  his  pupil,  who  had  come  to 
London  at  the  same  time  with  him,  not  in  a  much 
more  prosperous  state  than  himself,  and  whose  talents 
he  undoubtedly  rated  low  compared  with  his  own. 
His  being  outstripped  by  his  pupil  in  the  race  of 
immediate  fame  as  well  as  of  fortune  probably  made 
him  feel  some  indignation,  as  thinking  tliat  whatever 
might  be  Garriok's  merits  in  his  art,  the  reward  waa 
too  great  when  compared  with  what  the  most  suc- 
cessful efforts  of  literary  labour  could  attain.  At  all 
periods  of  his  life  Johnson  used  to  talk  contemptuously 
of  players,  but  in  this  work  he  speaks  of  them  with 
peculiar  acrimony,  for  which,  perhaps,  there  was 
formerly  too  much  reason  from  the  licentious  and 
dissolute  manners  of  those  engaged  in  that  profession. 
It  is  but  justice  to  add  that  in  our  own  time  such 
a  change  has  taken  place  that  there  is  no  longer 
room  for  such  an  unfavourable  distinction. 

His  schoolfellow  and  friend,  Dr.  Taylor,  told  me  a 
pleasant  anecdote  of  Johnson's  triumphing  over  his 
pupil,  David  Garrick.  ^Vhen  that  great  actor  had 
played  some  little  time  at  Goodman's  Fields,  Johnson 
and  Taylor  went  to  see  him  perform,  and  afterwards 
passed  the  evening  at  a  tavern  with  him  and  old 
GiflFard.  Johnson,  who  was  ever  depreciating  stage- 
players,  after  censuring  some  mistakes  in  emphasis 
which  Garrick  had  committed  in  the  course  of  that 
night's  acting,  said,  'The  players,  sir,  have  got  a 
kind  of  rant,  with  which  they  run  on,  without  any 
regard  either  to  accent  or  emphasis.'    Both  Garrick 


jET.  35]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         131 

aud  Giflfard  were  offended  at  this  sarcasm,  and  en- 
deavoured to  refute  it,  upon  which  Johnson  rejoined, 
'  Well,  now,  I  '11  give  you  something  to  speak  with 
which  you  are  little  acquainted,  and  then  we  shall  see 
how  just  my  observation  is.  That  shall  be  the  cri- 
terion. Let  me  hear  you  repeat  the  ninth  command- 
ment, "  Thou  shalt  not  bear  false  witness  against  thy 
neighbour."'  Both  tried  at  it,  said  Dr.  Taylor,  and 
both  mistook  the  emphasis,  which  should  be  upon  not 
and  false  untness.^  Johnson  put  them  right,  and 
enjoyed  his  victory  with  great  glee. 

His  Life  of  Savage  was  no  sooner  published  than  the 
following  liberal  praise  was  given  to  it  in  The  Champion, 
a  periodical  paper  :  *This  pamphlet  is,  without  flattery 
to  its  author,  as  just  and  well  written  a  piece  as 
of  its  kind  I  ever  saw,  so  that  at  the  same  time  that 
it  highly  deserves,  it  certainly  stands  very  little  in 
need  of,  this  recommendation.  As  to  the  history  of 
the  unfortunate  person  whose  memoirs  compose  this 
work,  it  is  certainly  penned  with  equal  accuracy  and 
spirit,  of  which  I  am  so  much  the  better  judge  as 
•i  know  many  of  the  facts  mentioned  to  be  strictly 
true  and  very  fairly  related.  Besides,  it  is  not  only 
the  story  of  Mr.  Savage,  but  innumerable  incidents 
relating  to  other  persons  and  other  affairs,  which 
renders  this  a  very  amusing  and,  withal,  a  very  in- 
structive and  valuable  performance.  The  author's 
observations  are  short,  significant,  and  just,  as  his 
narrative  is  remarkably  smooth    and  well-disposed. 

1  I_  suspect  Dr.  Taylor  was  inaccurate  in  this  statement.  The  em- 
phasis should  be  equally  upon  shttit  and  fwt,  as  both  concur  to  form  the 
negative  injunction;  zn^faUewitntss,  like  the  other  acts  prohibited  in 
the  Decalogue,  should  not  be  marked  by  any  peculiar  emphasis,  but 
only  be  distinctly  enunciated. 

[A  moderate  emphasis  should  be  placed  oa/alse. — Kkarney.] 


132         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1744 

His  reflections  open  to  all  the  recesges  of  the  hummn 
heart ;  and,  in  a  word,  a  more  just  or  pleasant,  a  more 
engaging  or  a  more  improving  treatise  on  all  the  ex- 
cellencies and  defects  of  human  nature  is  scarce  to  be 
found  in  our  own  or,  perhaps,  any  other  language.'* 

Johnson's  partiality  for  Savage  made  him  entertain 
no  doubt  of  his  story,  however  extraordinary  and  im- 
probable. It  never  occurred  to  him  to  question  his 
being  the  son  of  the  Countess  of  Macclesfield,  of 
whose  unrelenting  barbarity  he  so  loudly  complained, 
and  the  particulars  of  which  are  related  in  so  strong 
and  affecting  a  manner  in  Johnson's  Life  of  him. 
Johnson  was  certainly  well  warranted  in  publishing 
his  narrative,  however  offensive  it  might  be  to  the 
lady  and  her  relations,  because  her  alleged  unnatural 
and  cruel  conduct  to  her  son  and  shameful  avowal 
of  guilt  were  stated  in  a  Lift  of  Savage  now  lying 
before  me,  which  came  out  so  early  as  1727,  and  no 
attempt  had  been  made  to  confute  it  or  to  punish 
the  author  or  printer  as  a  libeller,  but,  for  the  honoui 
of  human  nature,  we  should  be  glad  to  find  the  shock- 
ing tale  not  true  ;  and  from  a  respectable  gentleman  ' 
connected  with  the  lady's  family  I  have  received  such 
information  and  remarks  as  joined  to  my  own  inquiries 
will,  I  think,  render  it  at  least  somewhat  doubtful, 
especially  when  we  consider  that  it  must  have  ori- 
ginated from  the  person  himself  who  went  by  the 
name  of  Richard  Savage. 


1  This  character  of  the  L(/e  of  Savagt  was  not  written  by  fielding, 
as  has  been  supposed,  but  most  probably  by  Ralph,  who,  as  appears 
from  the  minutes  of  the  partners  of  The  Champion,  in  the  possession  of 
Mr.  Reed  of  Staple  Inn,  succeeded  Fielding  in  his  share  of  the  paper 
before  the  date  of  that  eulogium. 

3  The  late  Francis  Cocayne  Cust,  Esq.,  one  of  his  Majesty's 
Connscl. 


iET.  35]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  133 

If  the  maxim,  falsum  in  uno,  falsum  in  omnibtu, 
were  to  be  received  without  qualification,  the  credit  of 
Savage's  narrative,  as  conveyed  to  us,  would  be  anni- 
hilated, for  it  contains  some  assertions  which,  beyond 
m  question,  are  not  true. 

1.  In  order  to  induce  a  belief  that  the  Earl  Rivers, 
on  account  of  a  criminal  connection  with  whom  Liady 
Macclesfield  is  said  to  have  been  divorced  from  her 
husband  by  Act  of  Parliament,'  had  a  peculiar  anxiety 
about  the  child  which  she  bore  to  him,  it  is  alleged 
that  his  Lordship  gave  him  his  own  name,  and  had  it 
duly  recorded  in  the  register  of  St.  Andrew's,  Holbom. 
I  have  carefully  inspected  that  register,  but  no  such 
entry  is  to  be  found.' 


S  [Mr.  Cust'*  reasoninz,  with  respect  to  the  filiation  of  Richard 
Savage,  always  appeared  to  me  extremely  unsatisfactory :  and  is  en- 
tirely overturned  by  the  following  decisive  observations,  for  which  the 
reader  is  indebted  to  the  unwearied  researches  of  Mr.  Bindley. — The 
ktory  on  which  Mr.  Cust  so  much  relies,  that  Savage  u-as  a  suppositi- 
tious child,  not  the  son  of  Lord  Rivers  and  Lady  Macclesfield,  but  the 
offspring  of  a  shoemaker,  introduced  in  consequence  of  her  real  son's 
death,  was,  without  doubt,  grounded  on  the  circumstance  of  Lady 
Macclesfield  having,  in  1696,  previously  to  the  birth  of  Savage,  had  a 
daughter  by  the  Earl  Rivers,  who  died  in  her  infancy  :  a  fact  which,  as 
*  the  same  gentleman  observes  to  me,  was  proved  in  the  course  of  the 
proceedings  on  Lord  Macclesfield's  Bill  of  Divorce.  Most  fictions  of 
this  kind  have  some  admixture  of  truth  in  them. — M.] 

[From  '  the  E^l  of  Macclesfield's  Case,'  which,  in  1797-8,  was  pre- 
sented to  the  Lords,  in  order  to  procure  an  act  of  divorce,  it  appears 
that  '  Anne,  Countess  of  Macclesfield,  under  the  name  of  Madam  Smith, 
in  Fox  Court,  near  Brook  Street,  Holbom,  was  delivered  of  a  male 
child  by  Mrs.  Wright,  a  midwife,  on  Saturday  the  i6th  of  lanuary 
1606-7,  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  who  was  baptized  on  the  Monday 
following,  and  registered  by  the  name  of  Richard,  the  son  of  John 
Smith,  by  Mr.  Burbridge,  assistant  to  Dr.  Manningham'-i  curate  for 
St.  Andrew's,  Holbom :  that  the  child  was  christened  on  Monday  the 
18th  of  January  in  Fox  Court ;  and,  from  the  privacy,  was  supposed  by 
Mr.  Burbridge  to  be  'a  by-blow  or  bastard.'  It  also  appears  that 
diuing  her  delivery  the  lady  wore  a  mask  ;  and  that  Mary  Pegler  on 
the  next  day  after  the  baptism  (Tuesday)  took  a  male  child,  whose 
mother  was  called  Madam  Smith,  from  the  house  of  Mrs.  Pheasant,  in 
Fox  Court  (running  from  Brook  Street  into  Gray's  Inn  Lane),  who 
went  by  the  name  of  Mrs.  Lee. 

Conformable  to  this  statement  b  the  entry  in  the  Register  of  St. 


134         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1744 

2.  It  ia  stated,  that '  Lady  Macclesfield  having  lired 
for  some  time  upon  very  uneasy  terms  with  her  hus- 
band, thought  a  public  confession  of  adultery  the 
most  obvious  and  expeditious  method  of  obtaining  her 
liberty ' ;  and  Johnson,  assuming  this  to  be  true,  stig- 
matises her  with  indignation  as  '  the  wretch  who  had, 
without  scruple,  proclaimed  herself  an  adulteress.' 
But  I  have  perused  the  Journals  of  both  Houses  of 
Parliament  at  the  period  of  her  divorce,  and  there 
find  it  authentically  ascertained,  that  so  far  from 
voluntarily  submitting  to  the  ignominious  charge  of 
adultery,  she  made  a  strenuous  defence  by  her  Counsel ; 
the  bill  having  been  first  moved  15th  of  January  1097-8, 
in  the  House  of  Lords,  and  proceeded  on  (with  various 
applications  for  time  to  bring  up  witnesses  at  a  dis- 
tance, etc),  at  intervals,  till  the  3rd  of  March,  when 
it  passed.  It  was  brought  to  the  Commons,  by  a 
message  from  the  Lords,  the  5th  of  March,  proceeded 
on  the  7th,  10th,  11th,  14th,  and  15th,  on  which  day, 
after  a  full  examination  of  witnesses  on  both  sides, 
and  hearing  of  Counsel,  it  was  reported  withoiit 
amendments,  passed,  and  carried  to  the  Lords.  That 
Lady  Macclesfield  was  convicted  of  the  crime  of  which 
she  was  accused  cannot  be  denied ;  but  the  question 
now  is  whether  the  person  calling  himself  Richard 
Savage  was  her  son. 

It  has  been  said  that  when  Earl  Rivers  was  dying, 
and  anxious  to  provide  for  all  his  natural  children,  he 
was  informed  by  Lady  Macclesfield  that  her  son  by 


Andrew's,  Holbom,  which  is  as  follows,  and  which  unquestionably 
records  the  baptism  of  Richard  Savage,  to  whom  Lord  Rivers  gave  his 
own  Christian  name,  prefixed  to  the  assumed  surname  of  his  mother : — 
'  Jany.  1696-7.  Richard,  son  of  John  Smith  and  Mary,  in  Fox  Court, 
in  Gray's  Inn  Lane,  baptized  the  i8th.'— J.  Blakbway.] 


yET.  35]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         136 

him  was  dead.  Whether,  then,  shall  we  heHeve  that 
this  was  a  malignant  lie,  invented  by  a  mother  to 
prevent  her  own  child  from  receiving  the  bounty  of 
his  father,  which  was  accordingly  the  consequence,  if 
the  person  whose  life  Johnson  wrote  was  her  son  ;  or 
shall  we  not  rather  believe  that  the  person  who  then 
assumed  the  name  of  Richard  Savage  was  an  impostor, 
being  in  reality  the  son  of  the  shoemaker,  under 
whose  wife's  care  Lady  Macclesfield's  child  was  placed  ; 
that  after  the  death  of  the  real  Richard  Savage  he 
attempted  to  personate  him  ;  and  that,  the  fraud  being 
known  to  Lady  Macclesfield,  he  was  therefore  repulsed 
by  her  with  just  resentment? 

There  is  a  strong  circumstance  in  support  of  the 
last  supposition,  though  it  has  been  mentioned  as 
an  aggravation  of  Lady  Macclesfield's  unnatural  con 
duct,  and  that  is,  her  having  prevented  him  from 
obtaining  the  benefit  of  a  legacy  left  to  him  by  Mrs. 
Lloyd,  his  godmother.  For  if  there  were  such  a 
legacy  left,  his  not  being  able  to  obtain  payment 
of  it  must  be  imputed  to  his  consciousness  that  he 
^*^  was  not  the  real  person.  The  just  inference  should 
be  that  by  the  death  of  Ludy  Macclesfield's  child 
before  its  godmother  the  legacy  became  lapsed,  and 
therefore  that  Johnson's  Richard  Savage  was  an  im- 
postor. 

If  he  had  a  title  to  the  legacy  he  could  not  have 
found  any  difficulty  in  recovering  it;  for  had  the 
executors  resisted  his  claim,  the  whole  costs,  as  well 
as  the  legacy,  must  have  been  paid  by  them,  if  he  had 
been  the  child  to  whom  it  was  given. 

The  talents  of  Savage,  and  the  mingled  fire,  rude- 
ness, pride,  meanness,  and  ferocity  of  his   charac- 


136         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1744 

ter,*  concur  in  making  it  credible  that  he  was  fit  to 
plan  and  carry  on  an  ambitious  and  darin|i^  gcheme  of 
imposture,  similar  instances  of  which  have  not  been 
wanting  in  higher  spheres,  in  the  history  of  different 
countries,  and  have  had  a  considerable  degree  of  succen. 
Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  to  the  companion  of  John- 
son (who,  through  whatever  medium  he  was  conveyed 
into  this  world, — be  it  ever  so  doubtful  *To  whom 
related,  or  by  whom  begot,'  was,  unquestionably,  a 
man  of  no  common  endowments),  we  must  allow  the 
weight  of  general  repute  as  to  his  ttatu*  or  parentage, 
though  illicit ;  and  supposing  him  to  be  an  impostor, 
it  seems  strange  that  Lord  Tyrconnel,  the  nephew  of 
Lady  Macclesfield,  should  patronise  him,  and  even 
admit  him  as  a  guest  in  his  family.'     Lastly,  it  must 


1  Johnson't  companion  appeanto  have  persuaded  that  lofty-minded 
man  that  he  reiembled  him  in  having  a  noble  pride  ;  for  Johnson,  after 
painting  in  strons  colours  the  quarrel  between  Lord  Tyrcoonel  and 
Savage,  anerts  that  '  the  spirit  of  Mr.  Savage,  indeed,  never  suffered 
him  to  solicit  a  reconciliation  :  he  returned  reproach  for  reproach,  and 
insult  for  insult.'  But  the  respectable  Kentleman  to  whom  I  have 
alluded  has  in  his  possession  a  letter  from  savage,  after  Lord  Tyrconnel 
had  discarded  him,  addressed  to  the  Reverend  Mr.  Gilbert,  hu  Lord- 
ship's chaplain,  in  which  he  requests  him  in  the  humblest  manner  to 
represent  bis  case  to  the  Viscount. 

>  Trusting  to  Savage's  information,  Johnson  represents  this  unhappy 
nian's  bein^  received  as  a  companion  by  Lord  Tyrconnel,  and  pen- 
sioned by  his  Lordship,  as  posterior  to  Savage's  conviction  and  pardon. 
But  I  am  assured  that  S.ivage  had  received  the  voluntary  bounty  of 
Lord  Tyrconnel,  and  had  been  dismissed  by  him  long  before  the  murder 
was  committed,  and  that  bis  Lordship  was  very  instrumental  in  pro- 
curing Savage's  pardon,  by  bis  intercession  u-ith  the  Queen  through 
Lady  Hertford.  If,  therefore,  he  had  been  desirous  of  preventing  the 
publication  by  Savaee,  be  would  have  left  him  to  his  fate.  Indeed  I 
must  observe,  that  although  Johnson  mentions  that  Lord  Tyrconnel's 
patronage  of  Savage  was  '  upon  his  prombe  to  lay  aside  his  design  of 
exposing  the  cruelty  of  bis  mother,'  tne  great  biographer  has  forgotten 
that  he  himself  has  mentioned  that  Savage's  story  nad  been  told  several 
years  before  in  The  Plain  Dealer ;  from  which  he  cjuotes  this  strong 
saying  of  the  generous  Sir  Richard  Steele,  that  the  '  inhumanity  of  his 
mother  had  given  him  a  right  to  find  every  good  man  his  father.'  At 
the  same  time  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  the  Lady  Macclesfield  and 
her  relations  might  still  wish  that  her  story  should  not  be  brought  into 
more  conspicuous  notice  by  the  satirical  pen  of  Savage. 


.ET.  35]     LIFE    OF    DR,    JOHNSON  137 

ever  appear  very  suspicious  that  three  different  ac- 
counts of  the  life  of  Richard  Savage,  one  published 
in  The  Plain  Dealer  in  1724,  another  in  1727,  and 
another  by  the  powerful  pen  of  Johnson  in  1744,  and 
all  of  them  while  Lady  Macclesfield  was  alive,  should, 
notwithstanding  the  severe  attacks  upon  her,  have 
been  suffered  to  pass  without  any  public  and  effectual 
contradiction. 

I  have  thus  endeavoured  to  sum  up  the  evidence 
upon  the  case  as  fairly  as  I  can  ;  and  the  result  seems 
to  be  that  the  world  must  vibrate  in  a  state  of  un- 
certainty as  to  what  was  the  truth. 

This  digression,  I  trust,  will  not  be  censured,  as 
it  relates  to  a  matter  exceedingly  curious,  and  very 
intimately  connected  with  Johnson,  both  as  a  man 
and  an  author.' 

He  this  year  wrote  the  Preface  to  the  Harleian 
Mi*cellany.  The  selection  of  the  pamphlets  of  which  it 
was  composed  was  made  by  Mr.  Oldys,  a  man  of  eager 
curiosity  and  indefatigable  diligence,  who  first  exerted 
that  spirit  of  inquiry  into  the  literature  of  the  old 
English  writers,  by  which  the  works  of  our  gjeat  dra- 
«natic  poet  have  of  late  been  so  signally  illustrated. 

1  Miss  Mason,  after  having  forfeited  the  title  of  Lady  Macclesfield 
by  divorce,  was  married  to  Colonel  Brett,  and,  it  is  said,  was  well 
known  in  all  the  polite  circles.  Colley  Cibber,  I  am  informed,  had  so 
high  an  opinion  of  her  taste  and  judgment  as  to  genteel  life  and 
manners  that  he  submitted  every  scene  of  his  Cartltss  Husband  to 
Mrs.  Brctt's_  revisal  and  correction.  Colonel  Brett  was  reported  to  be 
too  free  in  his  gallantry  with  his  lady's  maid.  Mrs.  Brett  came  intoa 
room  one  day  in  her  own  bouse,  and  found  the  Colonel  and  her  maid 
both  fast  asleep  in  two  chairs.  She  tied  a  white  handkerchief  rotind 
her  husband's  neck,  which  was  a  su^cient  proof  that  she  had  discoverol 
his  intrigue  ;  but  she  never  at  any  time  took  notice  of  it  to  him.  This 
incident,  as  I  am  told,  gave  occasion  to  the  well-wrought  scene  of  Sir 
Charles  and  Lady  Easy  and  Exlging. 

(Ladv  Macclesfield  died,  aged  80,  in  1753.  Her  eldest  daughter  by 
Colonel  Brett  was  the  very  last  mistress  of  George  the  First.  Ten  yeart 
after  that  sovereign's  death  she  married  Sir  William  Lemaa.— A.  B.] 


138         LIFE   OF   DR,    JOHNSON       [1746 

In  1745  he  published  a  pamphlet  entitled  Mitcet- 
laneouM  Obtervatioru  on  the  Tragedy  of  Mtidbeth^  with 
Remarfuon  Sir  T.  H.'t  (Sir  Thomas  Hanmer'g)  Edition 
qf  Shakespeare.  To  which  he  affixed  proposals  for  a 
new  edition  of  that  poet. 

As  we  do  not  trace  anything  else  published  by  him 
during  the  course  of  this  year,  we  may  conjecture  that 
he  was  occupied  entirely  with  that  work.  But  the 
little  encouragement  which  was  given  by  the  public 
to  his  anonymous  proposals  for  the  execution  of  a 
task  which  Warburton  was  known  to  have  undertaken 
probably  damped  his  ardour.  His  pamphlet,  how- 
ever, was  highly  esteemed,  and  was  fortunate  enough 
to  obtain  the  approbation  even  of  the  supercilious 
Warburton  himself,  who,  in  the  Preface  to  his  Shake- 
speare publislied  two  years  afterwards,  thus  men- 
tioned it :  '  As  to  all  those  things  which  have  been 
published  under  the  titles  of  Essays,  Remarks,  Observa- 
tions, etc. ,  on  Shakespeare,  if  you  except  some  Critical 
Notes  on  Macbeth,  g^ven  as  a  specimen  of  a  projected 
edition,  and  written,  as  appears,  by  a  man  of  parts  and 
genius,  the  rest  are  absolutely  below  a  serious  notice.' 

Of  this  flattering  distinction  shown  to  him  by  War- 
burton,  a  very  grateful  remembrance  was  ever  enter- 
tained by  Johnson,  who  said,  '  He  praised  me  at  a 
time  when  praise  was  of  value  to  me.' 

In  1746  it  is  probable  that  he  was  still  employed 
upon  his  Shakespeare,  which  perhaps  he  laid  aside  for 
a  time  upon  account  of  the  high  expectations  which 
were  formed  of  Warburton's  edition  of  that  great  poet 
It  is  somewhat  curious  that  his  literary  career  appears 
to  have  been  almost  totally  suspended  in  the  years 
1745  and  1746,  those  years  which  were  marked  by  a 


JET.  37]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON          139 

civil  war  in  Great  Britain,  when  a  rash  attempt  was 
made  to  restore  the  House  of  Stuart  to  the  throne. 
That  he  had  a  tenderness  for  that  unfortunate  House 
is  well  known  ;  and  some  may  fancifully  imagine  that 
a  sympathetic  anxiety  impeded  the  exertion  of  his 
intellectual  powers :  but  I  am  inclined  to  think  that 
he  was,  during  this  time,  sketching  the  outlines  of  his 
great  philological  work. 

None  of  his  letters  during  those  years  are  extant, 
so  far  as  I  can  discover.  This  is  much  to  be  regretted. 
It  might  afford  some  entertainment  to  see  how  he 
then  expressed  himself  to  his  private  friends  con- 
cerning State  affairs.  Dr.  Adams  informs  me  that 
'at  this  time  a  favourite  object  which  he  had  in  con- 
templation was  the  Life  of  Alfred  \  in  which,  from 
the  warmth  with  which  he  spoke  about  it,  he  would, 
I  believe,  had  he  been  master  of  his  own  will,  have 
engaged  himself,  rather  than  on  any  other  subject.' 

In  1747  it  is  supposed  that  the  Gentleman's  Magazine 
for  May  was  enriched  by  him  with  five  short  poetical 
pieces,  distinguished  by  three  asterisks.  The  first  is 
a  translation,  or  rather  a  paraphrase,  of  a  Latin 
'Epitaph  on  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer.  Whether  the  Latin 
was  his  or  not  I  have  never  heard,  though  I  should 
think  it  probably  was,  if  it  be  certain  that  he  wrote 
the  English ;  as  to  which  my  only  cause  of  doubt  is 
that  his  slighting  character  of  Hanmer  as  an  editor, 
in  his  Observations  on  Macbeth,  is  very  different  from 
that  in  the  Epitaph.  It  may  be  said  that  there  is  the 
same  contrariety  between  the  character  in  the  Obser- 
vations and  that  in  his  own  Preface  to  Shakespeare ; 
but  a  considerable  time  elapsed  between  the  one  pub- 
lication and  the  other,  whereas  the  Observations  and 


140         LIFE   OF  DR.    JOHNSON       [1747 

the  Epitaph  came  close  together.     The  others  are, 

'To  Miss ,  on  her  giving  the  Author  a  gold  and 

silk  network  Purse  of  her  own  weaving/ ;  '  Stella  in 
Mourning ' ;  '  The  ^Vinter's  Walk ' ;  '  An  Ode ' ;  and 
'To  Lyce, (an  elderly  Lady.'  I  am  not  positive  that 
all  these  were  his  productions ;  *  but  as  '  The  Winter's 
Walk '  has  never  been  controverted  to  be  his,  and  all 
of  them  have  the  same  mark,  it  is  reasonable  to  con- 
clude that  they  are  all  written  by  the  same  hand. 
Yet  to  the  Ode,  in  which  we  find  a  passage  very 
characteristic  of  him,  being  a  learned  description  of 
the  gout, 

*  Unhappy,  whom  to  beds  of  pain 
Arthritie  tyranny  oonsigns, ' 

there  is  the  following  note,  '  The  author  being  ill  of 
the  gout ' :  but  Johnson  was  not  attacked  with  that 
distemper  till  a  very  late  period  of  his  life.  May  not 
this,  however,  be  a  poetical  fiction  ?  Why  may  not  a 
poet  suppose  himself  to  have  the  gout,  as  well  as  sup- 
pose himself  to  be  in  love,  of  which  we  have  innumer- 
able instance8,'and  which  has  been  admirably  ridiculed 
by  Johnson  in  his  Life  of  Cowley }  I  have  also  some 
difficulty  to  believe  that  he  could  produce  such  a 
group  of  conceits  as  appear  in  the  verses  to  Lyce,  in 
which  he  claims  for  this  ancient  personage  as  good  a 
right  to  be  assimilated  to  heaven  as  nymphs  whom 
other  poets  have  flattered ;   he  therefore  ironically 


1  [Inthe  Universal  Visiter,  to  which  Johnson  contributed,  the  mark 
which  is  aiHxed  to  scone  pieces  unquestionably  his  is  also  found  sub- 
joined to  others,  of  which  ne  certainly  was  not  the  author.  The  mark, 
therefore,  will  not  ascertain  the  poenis  in  question  to  have  been  written 
by  him.  Some  of  them  were  probably  the  productions  of  Hawkeswortb, 
who,  it  is  believed,  was  afflicted  with  the  gout.  The  verses  on  a  Purse 
were  inserted  afterwards  in  Mrs.  Williams's  Misc*llani*s,  and  are, 
unquestionably,  Johnson's. — M.J 


iET.  38]    LIFE   OP   DR,    JOHNSON          141 

ascribes  to  her  the  attributes  of  the  shy,  in  such  stanzas 
as  this : 

'  Her  teeth  the  night  with  dar1cne$t  dies. 

She 's  atarr'd  with  pimples  o'er ; 
Her  tongue  like  nimble  lightning  plies. 
And  can  with  thwnder  roar.' 

But  as  at  a  very  advanced  age  he  could  condescend  to 
trifle  in  namby-pamby  rhymes  to  please  Mrs.  Thrale 
and  her  daughter^  he  may  have,  in  his  earlier  years, 
composed  such  a  piece  as  this. 

It  is  remarkable  that  in  this  first  edition  of  'The 
Winter's  Walk '  the  concluding  line  was  much  more 
Johnsonian  than  it  was  afterwards  printed ;  for  in 
subsequent  editions,  after  praying  Stella  to  'snatch 
him  to  her  arms/  he  says, 

'And  ihidd  me  from  the  HU  of  life ' ; 
whereas  in  the  first  edition  it  is 

'And  hide  me  from  the  tight  of  life.' 
A  horror  at  life  in  general  is  more  consonant  with 
Johnson's  habitual  gloomy  cast  of  thought. 

I  have  heard  him  repeat  with  great  energy  the 
following  verses,  which  appeared  in  the  Gentleman's 
Magazine  for  April  this  year ;  but  I  have  no  authority 
to  say  they  were  his  own.  Indeed  one  of  the  best 
critics  of  our  age  suggests  to  me  that  'the  word 
indifferently  being  used  in  the  sense  of  without  concern^ 
and  being  also  very  unpoetical,  renders  it  improbable 
that  they  should  have  been  his  composition.' 
On  Lord  Lovat's  Execution 

'  Pitied  by  gentle  minds  Kilmarnock  died ; 

The  brave,  Balmerino,  were  on  thy  side ; 

RadcIifTe,  unhappy  in  his  crimes  of  youth, 

Steady  in  what  he  still  mistook  for  truth. 


142         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1747 

Beheld  bis  death  to  decently  onmoved. 
The  toft  lamented,  and  tbo  Iravt  approred. 
But  Lorat'i  fate  indifferently  we  riew. 
True  to  no  King,  to  no  religion  true : 
No/atr  forgcta  the  rum  he  has  done ; 
No  ehUd  lament*  the  tyrant  of  hia  ton ; 
No  tory  pities,  thinking  what  he  waa ; 
No  vihig  eompaaaiona,  for  he  left  the  eouae ; 
Tlie  brave  regret  not,  for  be  waa  not  brave  I 
The  hone^  mourn  not,  knowing  him  a  knave.'  * 

This  year  his  old  pupil  and  friend,  David  Garrick, 
having  become  joint  patentee  and  manager  of  Drury 
Lane  theatre,  Johnson  honoured  his  opening  of  it 
with  a  Prologue,  which  for  just  and  manly  dramatic 
criticism  on  the  whole  range  of  the  English  stage, 
as  well  as  for  poetical  excellence,'  is  unrivalled.  Like 
the  celebrated  epilogue  to  the  Distretaed  Mother^ 
it  was,  during  the  season,  often  called  for  by  the 
audience.  The  most  striking  and  brilliant  passages 
of  it  have  been  so  often  repeated,  and  are  so  well 
recollected  by  all  the  lovers  of  the  drama  and  of 

1  These  verses  are  somewhat  too  severe  on  the  extraordinary  person 
who  is  the  chief  figure  in  them,  for  be  was  undoubtedly  brave.  His 
pleasantry  during  his  solemn  trial  (in  which,  by  the  way,  I  have  beard 
Mr.  David  Hume  observe,  that  we  have  one  of  the  very  few  speeches 
of  Mr.  Murray,  now  Earlof  Mansfield,  authentically  pven)  was  very 
remarkable.  When  asked  if  he  had  any  questions  to  put  to  Sir  Everard 
Fawkener,  who  was  one  of  the  strongest  witnesses  gainst  him,  be 
answered,  'I  only _  wished  him  joy  of  his  young  wifc';  and  after 
sentence  of  death,  in  the  horrible  terms  in  such  cases  of  treason,  was 
jHtinounced  upon  him,  and  he  was  retiring  from  the  bar,  he  said,  '  Fare 
you  well,  my  lords,  we  shall  not  all  meet  again  in  one  place.'  He 
behaved  with  perfect  composure  at  his  execution,  and  called  out, 
^  Dulce  tt  dtcorutn  tstpro  patriA  ntori.' 

*  My  friend  Mr.  Courtenay,  whose  eulogy  on  Johnson's  Latin 
poetry  has  been  inserted  in  this  work,  is  no  less  happy  in  praising 
nis  £nglish  poetry :         _ 

•  But  hark,  he  sings  !  the  strain  e'en  Pope  admires ; 
Indicant  virtue  her  own  bard  inspires. 
Sublime  as  Juvenal  he  pours  his  lays. 
And  with  the  Roman  shares  congenial  praise  ;— 
In  glowing  numbers  now  he  fires  the  age. 
And  Shakespeare's  sun  relumes  the  clouded  stage. 


iET.  38]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON          143 

poetry,  that  it  would  be  superfluous  to  point  them 
out.  In  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  December  this 
year  he  inserted  an  *  Ode  on  Winter,'  which  is,  I 
think,  an  admirable  specimen  of  his  genius  for  lyric 
poetry. 

But  the  year  1747  is  distinguished  as  the  epoch 
when  Johnson's  arduous  and  important  work,  his 
Dictionary  of  the  English  Language,  was  announced 
to  the  world  by  the  publication  of  its  Plan  or 
Prospectus. 

How  long  this  immense  undertaking  had  been 
the  object  of  his  contemplation  I  do  not  know.  I 
once  asked  him  by  what  means  he  had  attained  to 
that  astonishing  knowledge  of  our  language  by  which 
he  was  enabled  to  realise  a  design  of  such  extent 
and  accumulated  difficulty.  He  told  me  that  'it 
was  not  the  effect  of  particular  study,  but  that  it 
had  grown  up  in  his  mind  insensibly.'  I  have  been 
informed  by  Mr.  James  Dodsley  that  several  years 
before  this  period,  when  Johnson  was  one  day  sitting 
in  his  brother  Robert's  shop,  he  heard  his  brother 
4  suggest  to  him  that  a  dictionary  of  the  English 
language  would  be  a  work  that  would  be  well  re- 
ceived by  the  public ;  that  Johnson  seemed  at  first 
to  catch  at  the  proposition,  but  after  a  pause  said, 
in  his  abrupt,  decisive  manner,  *  I  believe  I  shall  not 
undertake  it '  lliat  he,  however,  had  bestowed  much 
thought  upon  the  subject  before  he  published  his 
*  Plan '  is  evident  from  the  enlarged,  clear,  and  ac- 
curate views  which  it  exhibits ;  and  we  find  him 
mentioning  in  that  tract  that  many  of  the  writers 
whose  testimonies  were  to  be  produced  as  authorities 
were  selected  by  Pope,  which  proves  that  he  had  been 


144  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1747 

furnished,  probably  by  Mr.  Robert  Dodsley,  with  what- 
ever hints  that  eminent  poet  had  contributed  towards 
a  great  literary  project  that  had  been  the  subject  of 
important  consideration  in  a  former  reign. 

The  booksellers  who  contracted  with  Johnson, 
single  and  unaided,  for  the  execution  of  a  work 
which  in  other  countries  has  not  been  effected  but 
by  the  co-operating  exertions  of  many,  were  Mr. 
Robert  Dodsley,  Mr.  Charles  Hitch,  Mr.  Andoew 
Millar,  the  two  Messieurs  Longman,  and  the  two 
Messieurs  Knapton.     Tlie  price  stipulated  was  £\516. 

The  *  Plan '  was  addressed  to  Philip  Dormer,  Earl 
of  Chesterfield,  then  one  of  his  Majesty's  Principal 
Secretaries  of  State,  a  nobleman  who  was  very  ambi- 
tious of  literary  distinction,  and  who,  upon  being 
informed  of  the  design,  had  expressed  himself  in 
terms  very  favourable  to  its  success.  Tliere  is,  per- 
haps, in  everything  of  any  consequence,  a  secret  history 
which  it  would  be  amiuing  to  know,  could  we  have  it 
authentically  communicated.  Johnson  told  me,*  'Sir, 
the  way  in  which  the  plan  of  my  dictionary  came 
to  be  inscribed  to  Lord  Chesterfield  was  this :  I  had 
neglected  to  write  it  by  the  time  appointed.  Dodsley 
suggested  a  desire  to  have  it  addressed  to  Lord 
Chesterfield.  I  laid  hold  of  this  as  a  pretext  for 
delay,  that  it  might  be  better  done,  and  let  Dodsley 
have  his  desire.  I  said  to  my  friend.  Dr.  Bathurst, 
**Now,  if  any  good  comes  of  my  addressing  to  Lord 
Chesterfield,  it  will  be  ascribed  to  deep  policy,  when, 
in  feet,  it  was  only  a  casual  excuse  for  laziness.'" 

It  is  worthy  of  observation  that  the  '  Plan '  has  not 

1  September  33,  1777,  going  from  Ashboome,  in  Derbyshire,  to  see 


iET.38]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  145 

only  the  substantial  merit  of  comprehension,  perspi- 
cuity, and  precision,  but  that  the  language  of  it  is 
unezceptionably  excellent,  it  being  altogether  free 
from  that  inflation  of  style  and  those  uncommon  but 
apt  and  energetic  words  which  in  some  of  his  writings 
have  been  censured,  with  more  petulance  than  justice; 
and  never  was  there  a  more  dignified  strain  of  com- 
pliment than  that  in  which  he  courts  the  attention  of 
one  who  he  had  been  persuaded  to  believe  would  be  a 
respectable  patron. 

*  With  regard  to  question  of  purity  or  propriety  (says  he), 
I  was  once  in  doubt  whether  I  should  not  attribute  to  myself 
too  much  in  attempting  to  decide  them,  and  whether  my  pro- 
vince waa  to  extend  beyond  the  proposition  of  the  question 
and  the  display  of  the  suffrages  on  each  side ;  but  I  have  been 
since  determined  by  your  Lordship's  opinion  to  interpose  my 
own  judgment,  and  shall  therefore  endeavour  to  support  what 
appears  to  me  most  consonant  to  grammar  and  reason.  Auso- 
nim  thought  that  modesty  forbade  him  to  plead  inability  for 
a  task  to  which  Cxsar  had  judged  him  equal : 

"Cur  me  posse  negem,  posse  quod  ille  putat?"* 

And  I  may  hope,  my  Lord,  that  since  you,  whose  authority 
^  ip  our  language  is  so  generally  acknowledged,  have  commis- 
sioned me  to  declare  my  own  opinion,  I  shall  be  considered  as 
exercising  a  kind  of  vicarious  jiuisdiction ;  and  that  the  power 
which  might  have  been  denied  to  my  own  claim  will  be  readily 
allowed  me  as  the  delegate  of  your  Lordship.' 

This  passage  proves,  that  Johnson's  addressing  his 
*  Plan '  to  Lord  Chesterfield  was  not  merely  in  conse- 
quence of  the  result  of  a  report  by  means  of  Dodsley, 
that  the  Earl  favoured  the  design  ;  but  that  there  had 
been  a  particular  communication  with  his  Lordship 
concerning  it.     Dr.  Taylor  told  me  that  Johnson  sent 

1  Ausonius  Theodosio  Augusto,  v.  la. 
VOL.  I.  X 


146         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1748 

his  'Plan  '  to  him  in  manuscript  for  his  perusal :  and 
that  when  it  was  lying  upon  liis  tahle,  Mr.  M'illium 
Whitehead  happened  to  pay  him  a  visit,  and  being 
shown  it,  was  highly  pleased  with  such  parts  of  it  as  he 
had  time  to  read,  and  begged  to  take  it  home  with  him, 
which  he  was  allowed  to  do  ;  that  from  him  it  got  into 
the  hands  of  a  noble  Lord,  who  carried  it  to  Lord 
Chesterfield.  When  Taylor  observed  this  might  be 
an  advantiige,  Johnson  replied,  'No,  sir,  it  would 
have  come  out  with  more  bloom  if  it  had  not  been 
seen  before  by  anybody.' 

The  opinion  conceived  of  it  by  another  noble  author 
appears  from  the  following  extract  of  a  letter  from 
the  Earl  of  Orrery  to  Dr.  Birch  : — 

•  CaUdon,  Dee.  30,  1747. 
*I  have  joat  now  seen  the  specimen  of  Mr.  Johiuon's 
Dictionary  addressed  to  Lord  Chesterfield.  I  am  much 
pleased  with  the  plan,  and  I  think  the  specimen  is  one  of  the 
best  that  I  have  ever  read.  Most  speoimens  disgust,  rather 
than  prejudice  us  in  favour  of  the  work  to  follow :  but  the 
language  of  Mr.  Johnson's  is  good,  and  the  arguments  are 
properly  and  moflestly  expressed.  However,  some  expres- 
sions may  be  canlled  at,  but  they  are  trif  es.  I  '11  mention 
one,  the  barren  laureL  The  laurel  is  not  barren,  in  any  sense 
whatever:  it  bears  fruits  and  flowers.  Sed  hce  $unt  nvgee, 
and  I  have  great  expectations  from  the  performance.'  ^ 

That  he  was  fully  aware  of  the  arduous  nature  of 
the  undertaking,  he  acknowledges  ;  and  shows  himself 
perfectly  sensible  of  it  in  the  conclusion  of  his  '  Plan  ' ; 
but  he  had  a  noble  consciousness  of  his  own  abilities, 
which  enabled  him  to  go  on  with  undaunted  spirit. 

Dr.  Adams  found  him  one  day  busy  at  his  Dictionary, 
when  the  following  dialogue  ensued.     '  Adams  :  This 

1  Birch  MSS.,  Brit.  Mus.  4303. 


/ET.  39]    LIFE   OF    DR.    JOHNSON         147 

is  a  great  work,  sir.  How  are  you  to  get  all  the 
etymologies  ?  Johnson  :  ^VTiy,  sir,  here  is  a  shelf  with 
Junius  and  Skinner  and  others  ;  and  there  is  a  Welsh 
fl^ntleman  who  has  published  a  collection  of  Welsh 
proverbs  who  will  help  me  with  the  Welsh.  Adams: 
But,  sir,  how  can  you  do  this  in  three  years  ?  John- 
son :  Sir,  I  have  no  doubt  that  I  can  do  it  in  three 
years.  Adams:  But  the  French  Academy,  which 
consists  of  forty  members,  took  forty  years  to  compile 
their  dictionary.  Johnson :  Sir,  thus  it  is.  This  is 
the  proportion.  Let  me  see;  forty  times  forty  is 
sixteen  hundred.  As  three  to  sixteen  hundred,  so  is 
the  proportion  of  an  Englishman  to  a  Frenchman.' 
With  so  much  eiise  and  pleasantry  could  he  talk  of 
that  prodigious  labour  which  he  had  undertaken  to 
execute. 

The  public  has  had,  from  another  pen,^  a  long  de- 
tail of  what  had  been  done  in  this  country  by  prior 
lexicographers ;  and  no  doubt  Johnson  was  wise  to 
avail  himself  of  them,  so  far  as  they  went ;  but  the 
learned  yet  judicious  research  of  etymology,  the 
^  Tarious  yet  accurate  display  of  definition,  and  the 
rich  collection  of  authorities,  were  reserved  for  the 
superior  mind  of  our  great  philologist.  For  the 
mechanical  part  he  employed,  as  he  told  me,  six 
amanuenses  ;  and  let  it  be  remembered  by  the  natives 
of  North  Britain,  to  whom  he  is  supposed  to  have  been 
so  hostile,  that  five  of  them  were  of  that  country. 
There  were  two  Messieurs  Macbean  ;  Mr.  Shiels,  who 
we  shall  hereafter  see  partly  wrote  the  Lives  of  the 
Poets  to  which  the  name  of  Gibber  is  afiixed ;  *  Mr. 


1  See  Sir  J^ohn  Hawkins's  Li/e  of  Johnson. 
3  See  vol.  iii.  under  April  lo,  1776. 


148         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1748 

Stewart,  son  of  Mr.  George  Stewart,  bookseller  at 
Edinburgh  ;  and  a  Mr.  Maltland.  The  sixth  of  these 
humble  assistants  was  Mr.  Peyton,  who,  I  believe, 
taught  French,  and  published  some  elementary  tracts. 

To  all  these  painful  labourers  Johnson  showed  a 
never-ceasing  kindness,  so  far  as  they  stood  in  need  of 
it.  The  elder  Mr.  Macbean  had  afterwards  the  honour 
of  being  librarian  to  Archibald,  Duke  of  Argyll,  for 
many  years,  but  was  left  without  a  shilling.  Johnson 
wrote  for  him  a  preface  to  A  System  of  Ancient 
Geography ;  and,  by  the  favour  of  Lord  Thurlow,  got 
him  admitted  a  poor  brother  of  the  Charterhouse.  For 
Shiels,  who  died  of  a  consumption,  he  had  much  ten- 
derness ;  and  it  has  been  thought  that  some  choice 
sentences  in  the  Live*  of  the  Poet*  were  supplied  by 
him.  Peyton,  when  reduced  to  penury,  had  frequent 
aid  from  the  bounty  of  Johnson,  who  at  last  was  at 
the  expense  of  burying  him  and  his  wife. 

^Vliile  the  Dictionary  was  going  forward,  Johnson 
lived  part  of  the  time  inHolbom,  part  in  Gough  Square, 
Fleet  Street ;  and  he  had  an  upper  room  fitted  up  like 
a  counting-house  for  the  purpose,  in  which  he  gave  to 
the  copyists  their  several  tasks.  The  words,  partly 
taken  from  other  dictionaries,  and  partly  supplied  by 
himself,  having  been  first  written  down  with  spaces 
left  between  them,  he  delivered  in  writing  their  ety- 
mologies, definitions,  and  various  significations.  The 
authorities  were  copied  from  the  books  themselves,  in 
which  he  had  marked  the  passages  with  a  black-lead 
pencil,  the  traces  of  which  could  easily  be  eflfaced. 
I  have  seen  several  of  them,  in  which  that  trouble  had 
not  been  taken  ;  so  that  they  were  just  as  when  used 
by  the  copyists.      It  is  remarkable  that  he  was  so 


iET.  39]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         149 

attentive  in  the  choice  of  the  passages  in  which  words 
are  authorised^  that  one  may  read  page  after  page  of 
his  Dictionary  with  improvement  and  pleasure :  and 
it  should  not  pass  unobserved^  that  he  has  quoted 
no  author  whose  writings  had  a  tendency  to  hurt 
sound  religion  and  morality. 

The  necessary  expense  of  preparing  a  work  of  such 
magnitude  for  the  press  must  have  been  a  consider- 
able deduction  from  the  price  stipulated  to  be  paid 
for  the  copyright.  I  understand  that  nothing  was 
allowed  by  the  booksellers  on  that  account ;  and  I 
remember  his  telling  me  that  a  large  portion  of  it 
having,  by  mistake,  been  written  upon  both  sides  of 
the  paper,  so  as  to  be  inconvenient  for  the  compositor, 
it  cost  him  twenty  pounds  to  have  it  transcribed  upon 
one  side  only. 

He  is  now  to  be  considered  as  '  tugging  at  his  oar,* 
as  engaged  in  a  steady  continued  course  of  occupation, 
sufficient  to  employ  all  his  time  for  some  years  ;  and 
which  was  the  best  preventive  of  that  constitutional 
melancholy  which  was  ever  lurking  about  him,  ready 
to  trouble  his  quiet.  But  his  enlarged  and  lively  mind 
could  not  be  satisfied  without  more  diversity  of  em- 
ployment, and  the  pleasure  of  animated  relaxation.* 
He  therefore  not  only  exerted  his  talents  in  occasional 
composition,  very  different  from  lexicography,  but 
formed  a  club  in  Ivy  Lane,  Paternoster  Row,  with  a 


1  [For  the  sake  of  relaxation  from  his  literary  lahours,  and  probably 
also  for  Mrs.  Johnson's  health,  he  this  summer  visited  Tunbridge  Wells, 
then  a  place  of  much  gjreater  resort  than  it  is  at  present.  Here  he  met 
Mr.  Cibbcr,  Mr.  Garrick,  Mr.  Samuel  Richardson,  Mr.  Whiston,  Mr. 
Onslow  (the  Speaker),  Mr.  Pitt,  Mr  Lyttelton,  and  several  other  dis- 
tinguisbed  persons.  In  a  print  representing  some  of  '  the  remarkable 
characters'  who  were  at  "runbridge  Wells  in  1748  (xc  Richardson's 
Correspondence),  Dr.  Johnson  stands  the  first  figure. — M.] 


150         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1749 

view  to  enjoy  literary  discussion,  and  amuse  his  even- 
ing hours.  The  memben  associated  with  him  in  this 
little  society  were  his  beloved  friend  Dr.  Richard 
Bathurst,  Mr.  Ilawkesworth,  aftcrwardn  well  known 
by  his  writing,  Mr.  John  Hawkins,  an  attorney,^  and 
a  few  others  of  different  professions. 

In  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  May  of  this  year 
he  wrote  a  *  Lafe  of  Roscommon/  with  Notes ;  which 
he  afterwards  much  improved  (indenting  the  notes  into 
text),  and  inserted  amongst  his  Live*  of  the  Englith  Poets. 

Mr.  Dodsley  this  year  brought  out  his  IWceplor, 
one  of  the  most  valuable  books  for  the  improvement 
of  young  minds  that  has  appeared  in  any  language  ; 
and  to  this  meritorious  work  Johnson  furnished  the 
'preface,'  containing  a  general  sketch  of  the  book, 
with  a  short  and  perspicuous  recommendation  of  each 
article  ;  as  also  *The  Vision  of  Theodore  the  Hermit, 
found  in  his  Cell,'  a  most  beautiful  allegory  of  human 
life,  under  the  figure  of  ascending  the  mountain  of 
Existence.  The  Bishop  of  Dromore  heard  Dr.  Johnson 
say  that  he  thought  this  was  the  best  thing  he  ever  wrote. 

In  January  1749  he  published  The  Vanity  of  Iluman 
Wishes,  being  the  Tenth  Satire  of  Juvenal  imitated. 
He,  I  believe,  composed  it  the  preceding  year.'    Mrs. 

1  He  was  afterwards  for  several  years  Chairman  of  the  Middlesex 
Justices,  and  upon  occasion  of  presenting  an  address  to  the  King, 
accepted  the  usual  oflfer  of  knighthood.  He  is  author  of  A  History  of 
Music,  in  five  volumes  in  quarto.  By  assiduous  attendance  upon 
Johnson  in  his  last  illness,  he  obtained  the  office  of  one  of  his  executors  : 
inconsequence  of  which  the  booksellers  of  London^ employed  him  to 
publish  an  edition  of  Dr.  Johnson's  works,  and  to  write  his  life. 

[This  '  Mr.  John  Hawlcins,  an  attorney,"  is  Boswell's  retort  cour- 
teous to  the  only  reference  Hawkins  thought  fit  to  make  to  him  in  his 
(Hawkins's)  life  of  Johnson : '  Mr.  James  ^jswell,  a  native  of  Scotland.' 
—A.  B.] 

2  Sir  John  Hawkins,  with  solemn  inpccuracv.  represents  this  poem 
as  a  consequence  of  the  indifferent  reception  of  his  tragedy.  But  the 
fact  is,  that  the  poem  was  published  on  the  9th  of  January,  and  the 
tragedy  was  not  acted  till  the  6th  of  February  following. 


iET.  4o]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         151 

Johnson^  for  the  sake  of  country  air,  had  lodgings  at 
Hampstead,  to  which  he  resorted  occasionally,  and 
there  the  greatest  part,  if  not  the  whole,  of  this 
imitation  was  written.  The  fervid  rapidity  with  which 
it  was  produced  is  scarcely  credible.  I  have  heard 
him  say  that  he  composed  seventy  lines  of  it  in  one 
day,  without  putting  one  of  them  upon  paper  till  they 
were  finished.  I  remember  when  I  once  regretted  to 
him  that  he  had  not  given  us  more  of  Juvenal's  Satires, 
he  said  he  probably  should  give  more,  for  he  had 
them  all  in  his  head  ;  by  which  I  understood  that  he 
had  the  originals  and  correspondent  allusions  floating 
in  his  mind,  which  he  could,  when  he  pleased,  em- 
body and  render  permanent  without  much  labour. 
Some  of  them,  however,  he  observed,  were  too  gross 
for  imitation. 

The  profits  of  a  single  poem,  however  excellent, 
appear  to  have  been  very  small  in  the  last  reign,  com- 
pared with  what  a  publication  of  the  same  size  has 
since  been  known  to  yield.  I  have  mentioned  upon 
Johnson's  own  authority,  that  for  his  London  he  had 
only  ten  guineas ;  and  now,  after  his  fame  was  estab- 
lished, he  got  for  his  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes  but 
five  guineas  more,  as  is  proved  by  an  authentic 
document  in  my  possession.^ 

It  will  be  observed  that  he  reserves  to  himself  the 
right  of  printing  one  edition  of  this  satire,  which  was 
his  practice  upon  occasion  of  the  sale  of  all  his  writ- 
ings ;  it  being  his  fixed  intention  to  publish  at  some 

1_  •  Nov.  24,  1784,  I  received  of  Mr.  Dodsley  fifteen  guineas,  for 
which  I  assign  to  him  the  right  of  copy  of  an  Imitation  of  the  Tenth 
Satire  o/ Juvenal,  written  by  me ;  reserving  to  myself  the  right  of 
printing  one  edition.  Sam.  Johnson.' 

'London,  29  June  1786.  A  true  copy,  from  the  original  in  Dr. 
Johnson's  handwriting.  Jas.  Dodsley.' 


152         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1749 

period,  for  his  own  profit,  a  complete  collection  of  hif 
works. 

His  Vanity  of  Human  ^Vi*■^^e4  has  less  of  common 
life,  but  mure  of  a  philusophic  dignity  than  his  London. 
More  reiiders,  thcrefure,  will  be  delighted  with  the 
pointed  sjiirit  of  London,  than  with  the  profound 
reflection  of  the  Vanity  of  Human  Winhe*.  Garrick, 
for  instance,  observed  in  his  sprightly  manner,  with 
more  vivacity  than  regard  to  just  discrimination,  as  is 
usual  with  wits,  '  Wlieu  Juhnson  lived  much  with  the 
Herveys,  and  saw  a  good  deal  of  what  was  passing  in 
life,  he  wrote  his  London,  which  is  lively  and  easy. 
When  he  became  more  retired,  he  gave  us  his  Vanity 
qf  Human  Wi«he»,  which  is  as  hard  as  Greek.  Had 
he  gone  on  to  imitate  another  satire,  it  wiould  have 
been  as  hard  as  Hebrew.'  ^ 

But  the  Vanity  of  Human  ^'^iah^t  is,  in  the  opinion 
of  the  best  judges,  as  high  an  effort  of  ethic  poetry 
as  any  language  can  show,  llie  instances  of  variety 
of  disappointment  are  chosen  so  judiciously,  and 
painted  so  strongly,  that,  the  moment  they  are  read, 
they  bring  conviction  to  every  thinking  mind.  That 
of  the  scholar  must  have  depressed  the  too  sanguine 
expectations  of  many  an  ambitious  student'    That  of 

J  From  Mr.  Langton. 

S  In  this  poem  one  of  the  instances  mentioned  of  onforttinate  learned 
men  is  Lydiat : 

'  Hear  Lydiat's  life,  and  Galileo's  end.' 

The  history  of  L>'diat  being  little  known,  the  following  account  of  htm 
may  be  acceptable  to  many  of  my  readers.  It  appeared  as  a  note  in 
the  supplement  to  t)ie  GtntUman' i  Magatiyu  for  1748,  in  which  some 
passages  extracted  from  Johnson's  poem  were  inserted,  and  it  should 
have  been  added  in  the  subsequent  editions  : — '  A  very  learned  divine 
and  mathematician,  fellow  of  New  College,  Oxon,  and  rector  of  Oker- 
ton,  near  Banbury.  He  wrote,  among  many  others,  a  Latin  Treatise, 
"Z>«  Natura  call,  etc.,"  in  which  he  attacked  the  sentiments  01 
ScaUger  and  Aristotle,  not  bearing  to  hear  it  urged,  that  umu  dumgt 


/ET.  4o]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  163 

the  warrior  Charles  of  Sweden  is,  I  think,  as  highly 
finished  a  picture  as  possibly  can  be  conceived. 

Were  all  the  other  excellencies  of  this  poem  anni- 
hilated, it  must  ever  have  our  grateful  reverence  from 
its  noble  conclusion ;  in  which  we  are  consoled  with 
the  assurance  that  happiness  may  be  attained,  if  we 
*  apply  our  hearts '  to  piety : — 

'  Where  then  shall  hope  and  fear  theh:  objects  find? 
Shall  dull  suspense  corrupt  the  stagnant  mind  ? 
Must  helpless  man,  in  ignorance  sedate. 
Boll  darkling  down  the  torrent  of  his  fate  ? 
Shall  no  dislike  alarm,  no  wishes  rise. 
No  cries  attempt  the  meroy  of  the  skies? 
Inquirer,  cease ;  petitions  jet  remain, 
Whicl^  Heaven  may  hear,  nor  deem  religion  vain. 
Still  raise  for  good  the  supplicating  voice. 
But  leave  to  Heaven  the  measure  and  the  choice ; 
Safe  in  his  hand,  whos^  eye  discerns  afar 
The  secret  ambush  of  a  specious  praj'er ; 
Implore  his  aid,  in  his  decisions  rest. 
Secure,  whate'er  he  gives,  he  gives  the  best ; 
Tet  when  the  sense  of  sacred  presence  fires, 
And  strong  devotion  to  the  skies  aspires, 
Pour  forth  thy  fervours  for  a  healthful  mind. 
Obedient  passions,  and  a  will  resign'd ; 
For  love,  which  scarce  collective  man  can  fill ; 
For  patience,  sovereign  o'er  transmuted  ill ; 
For  faith,  which  panting  for  a  happier  seat, 
Counts  death  kind  Nature's  signal  for  retreat ; 


are  tnt*  in  phUoiofihy  and  /alse  in  divinity.  He  made  above  six 
hundred  sermons  on  the  harmony  of  the_  Evangelists.  Being  unsuc- 
cessful in  publishing  his  works,  he  lay  in  the  prison  of  Bocardo  at 
Oxford,  and  in  the  King's  Bench,  till  Bishop  Usher,  Dr.  Laud,  Sir 
William  Boswell,  and  Dr.  Pink,  released  him  by  paying  his  debts. 
He  petitioned  King  Charles  i.  to  be  sent  into  Ethiopia,  etc.  to  procure 
MSS.  Having  spoken  in  favour  of  monarchy  and  bishops,  he  was 
plundered  by  the  Parliament  forces,  and  twice  carried  away  prisoner 
from  his  rectory ;  and  afterwards  had  not  a  shirt  to  shift  him  in  three 
months,  without  he  borrowed  it,  and  died  very  poor  in  1646.' 


154         LIFE   OP   DR,    JOHNSON       [1749 

TheM  goods  for  man  tha  laws  of  Heaven  ordain. 
These  goods  be  grants,  who  grants  the  power  to  fain ; 
With  these  eelestial  wisdom  calms  the  mind. 
And  makes  the  happiness  she  does  not  find.'  ^ 

Garrick  being  now  vested  with  theatrical  power  by 
being  manager  of  Drury  Lane  'Ilieatre,  he  kindly  and 
generously  made  use  of  it  to  bring  out  Johnson's 
tragedy,  whioh  hud  been  long  kept  back  for  want  of 
encouragement.  But  in  this  benevolent  purpose  he 
met  with  no  small  difficulty  from  the  temper  of  John* 
son,  which  could  not  brook  that  a  drama  which  he 
had  formed  with  much  study,  and  had  been  obliged 
to  keep  more  than  the  nine  years  of  Horace,  should 
be  revised  and  altered  at  the  pleasure  of  an  actor. 

1  [In^  this  poem,  a  line,  in  which  the  danger  attending  oo  fenule 
beauty  is  mentioned,  has  vcr)- generally,  I  believe,  been  misunderstood:— 

'  Yet  Vane  could  tell  what  ills  fix>m  beauty  sonng. 
And  Sedley  cursed  the  form  that  pleased  a  Icing. 

The  lady  mentioned  inthe  first  of  these  verses  was  not  the  celebrated 
Lady  Vane  whose  memoirs  were  given  to  the  public  by  Dr.  Smollett, 
but  Anne  Vane,  who  was  mistress  to  Frederick,  Prince  of  Wales,  and 
died  in  1736,  not  long  before  Johnson  settled  in  London.  Some 
account  of  this  lady  was  published  under  the  title  of  Tht  Stcrtt 
History  o/Vaiulia,  8vo,  1732.  See  also  I'antHa  in  ik*  Straw,  ^to, 
zy3a.  In  Mr.  Boswell's  Tour  to  the  Htbridts,  we  find  some  observa- 
tions respecting  the  lines  in  question  : — 

'  In  Dr.  Johnson's  yanity  0/  Human  Witktt  there  is  the  following 
passage: — 

"The  teemine  mother  anxious  for  her  race. 
Begs  for  each  birth  the  fortune  of  a  face ; 
Yet  Vane,"  etc. 

'  Lord  Hailes  told  him  [Johnson]  he  was  mistaken  in  the  instances 
he  had  given  of  unfortunate  fair  ones,  for  neither  Vane  nor  Sedley  had 
a  title  to  that  description.'  His  lordship  therefore  thought  fit  that  the 
lines  should  rather  have  run  thus  : — 

Yet  Shore  could  tell 

And  Valiere  cursed 

'Our  friend  (he  adds  in  a  subsequent  note  addressed  to  Mr.  Boswell 
on  this  subject)  chose  Vane,  who  was  far  from  being  well-looked,  and 
Sedley,  who  was  so  ugly  that  Charles  11.  said  his  brother  had  her  by 
way  of  penance.' — M.] 


/ET.  4o]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  155 

Yet  Garrick  knew  well  that  without  some  alterations 
it  would  not  be  fit  for  the  stage.  A  violent  dispute 
having  ensued  between  them,  Garrick  applied  to  the 
Reverend  Dr.  Taylor  to  interpose.  Johnson  was  at 
first  very  obstinate.  'Sir  (said  he),  the  fellow  wants 
me  to  make  Mahomet  run  mad,  that  he  may  have  an 
opportunity  of  tossing  his  hands  and  kicking  his  heels.  '^ 
He  was,  however,  at  last,  with  difiiculty,  prevailed  on 
to  comply  with  Garrick's  wishes,  so  as  to  allow  of  some 
changes  ;  but  still  there  were  not  enough. 

Dr.  Adams  was  present  the  first  night  of  the  repre- 
sentation of  Irene,  and  gave  me  the  following  account : 
'  Before  the  curtain  drew  up,  there  were  cat-calls 
whistling,  which  alarmed  Johnson's  friends.  The  Pro- 
logue, which  was  written  by  himself  in  a  manly  strain, 
soothed  the  audience,*  and  the  play  went  off  tolerably 
till  it  came  to  the  conclusion,  when  Mrs.  Pritchard, 
the  heroine  of  the  piece,  was  to  be  strangled  upon  the 
stage,  and  was  to  speak  two  lines  with  the  bow-string 
round  her  neck.      The  audience  cried  out  '  Murder  I 


.   1  Mabomet  was  in  fact  played  by  Mr.  Barry,  and  Demetrius  by  Mr. 
Garrick  :  but  probably  at  this  time  the  parts  were  not  yet  cast. 

•  The  expression  used  by  Dr.  Adams  was  '  soothed.'  _  I  should  rather 
think  the  audience  was  aw*d  by  the  extraordinary  spirit  and  dignity 
of  the  following  lines : — 

'  Be  this  at  least  his  praise,  be  this  his  pride, 
To  force  applause  no  modern  arts  are  tried  ; 
Should  partial  cat -calls  all  his  hopes  confound, 
He  bids  no  trumpet  quell  the  fatal  sound  ;_ 
Should  welcome  sleep  relieve  the  weary  wit, 
He  rolls  no  thunders  o'er  the  drowsy  pit ; 
No  snares  to  captivate  the  judgment  spreads, 
Nor  bribes  your  eyes  to  prejudice  your  heads._ 
Unmoved,  though  witlings  sneer  and  rivals  rail. 
Studious  to  please,  yet  not  ashamed  to  fail. 
He  scorns  the  meek  address,  the  suppliant  strain, 
With  merit  needless,  and  without  it  vain  ; 
In  Reason,  Nature,  Truth,  he  dares  to  trust ; 
Ye  fops,  be  silent,  and,  ye  wits,  be  just  1 ' 


166  LIFE    OF    DR    JOHNSON        [1749 

Murder  ! '  ^  She  several  times  attempted  to  ipeak,  but 
m  vain.  At  lact  she  was  obliged  to  go  off  the  ctagtt 
alive.  This  passage  was  afterwards  struck  out,  and 
■he  was  carried  off  to  be  put  to  death  behind  the  scenes, 
as  the  play  now  has  it  The  Epilogue,  as  Johnson 
informed  me,  was  written  by  Sir  William  Yonge.  I 
know  not  how  his  play  came  to  be  thus  graced  by  the 
pen  of  a  person  then  so  eminent  in  the  political  world. 

Notwithstanding  all  the  support  of  such  performers 
as  Garrick,  Barry,  Mrs.  Cibber,  Mrs.  Pritchard,  and 
every  advantage  of  dress  and  decoration,  the  tragedy 
of  Irene  did  not  please  the  public'  Mr.  Garrick's 
zeal  carried  it  through  for  nine  nights,  so  that  the 
author  had  his  three  nights'  profits  ;  and  from  a  receipt 
signed  by  him,  now  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  James  Dodsley, 
it  appears  that  his  friend,  Mr.  Robert  Dodsley,  gave 
him  £100  for  the  copy,  with  his  usual  reservation  of 
the  right  of  one  edition. 

Irene,  considered  as  a  poem,  is  entitled  to  the  praise 
of  superior  excellence.  Analysed  into  parts,  it  will 
furnish  a  rich  store  of  noble  sentiments,  fine  imagery, 
and  beautiful  language  ;  but  it  is  deficient  in  pathos, 

1  [This  shows  how  ready  modem  audiences  are  to  condemn  in  a  new 
play  what  they  have  frecjuently  endured  very  quietly  in  an  old  one. 
Kowe  has  made  Moneses  in  Tamtrlatu  die  by  the  bow-string,  without 
offence. — M.] 

3  [I  know  not  what  Sir  John  Hawkins  means  by  the  cold  rtceptien  of 
Irtn*.  [See  note,  p.  164.]  I  was  at  the  first  representation  and  most 
of  the  subsequent.  It  was  much  applauded  the  first  night,  particularly 
the  speech  on  to-morrow.  It  ran  nine  nights  at  least.  It  did  not 
indeed  become  a  stock  play,  but  there  was  not  the  least  oppositioa 
during  the  representation,  except  in  the  first  night  in  the  last  act, 
where  Irene  was  to  be  strangled  on  the  stage,  which  John  could  not 
bear,  though  a  dramatic  poet  may  stab  or  slay  by  hundreds.  The 
bow-string  was  not  a  Christian  nor  an  ancient  Greek  or  Roman  death. 
But  this  offence  was  removed  after  the  first  night  and  Irene  went  off 
the  stage  to  be  strangled.  Many  stories  were  circulated  at  the  time  of 
the  author's  being  observed  at  the  representation  to  be  dissatisfi«l 
with  some  of  the  speeches  apd  conduct  of  the  play,  himself;  amd,  like 
Lafontaine,  expressing  bis  disapprobation  aloud. — Burney.] 


^T.  4o]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  167 

in  that  delicate  power  of  touching  the  human  feelings, 
which  is  the  principal  end  of  the  drama. ^  Indeed 
Garrick  has  complained  to  me  that  Johnson  not  only 
had  not  the  faculty  of  producing  the  impressions  of 
tragedy,  but  that  he  had  not  the  sensibility  to  perceive 
them.  His  great  friend  Mr.  Walmsley's  prediction 
that  he  would  *  turn  out  a  fine  tragedy-writer,'  was, 
therefore,  ill-founded.  Johnson  was  wise  enough  to 
be  convinced  that  he  had  not  the  talents  necessary  to 
write  successfully  for  the  stage,  and  never  made 
another  attempt  in  that  species  of  composition. 

"When  asked  how  he  felt  upon  the  ill  success  of  his 
tragedy,  he  replied,  *  Like  the  Monument,'  meaning 
that  he  continued  firm  and  unmoved  as  that  column. 
And  let  it  be  remembered,  as  an  admonition  to  the 
genuM  irritabUe  of  dramatic  writers,  that  this  great 
man,  instead  of  peevishly  complaining  of  the  bad 
taste  of  the  town,  submitted  to  its  decision  without  a 
murmur.  He  had,  indeed,  upon  all  occasions  a  great 
deference  for  the  general  opinion  :  '  A  man  (said  he) 
who  writes  a  book  thinks  himself  wiser  or  wittier 
than  the  rest  of  mankind ;  he  supposes  that  he  can 
instruct  or  amuse  them,  and  the  public  to  whom  he 
appeals,  must,  after  all,  be  the  judges  of  his  pre- 
tensions.' 

On  occasion  of  this  play  being  brought  upon  the 
stage,  Johnson  had  a  fancy  that  as  a  dramatic  author 


1  Aaron  Hill  (vol.  iL  p.  355),  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Mallet,  gives  the 
following  account  of  Irene  after  having  seen  it :  'It  was  at  the 
anomalous  Mr.  Johnson's  benefit,  and  found  the  play  his  proper  repre- 
sentative ;  strong  sense  ung^aced  by  sweetness  or  decorum.' 

^A  gentleman  of  the  name  of  Pot  is  said  to  have  expressed  the 
opinion  that  Irene  was  the  finest  tragedy  of  modern  times,  but  on  this 
judgment  being  made  known  to  Johnson  he  was  heard  to  mutter, 
'  If  Pot  says  so,  Pot  lies.'— A.  B-l 


168         LIFE   OF  DR.    JOHNSON       [1750 

his  dress  should  be  more  gay  than  what  he  ordinarily 
wore ;  he  therefore  appeared  behind  the  scenes,  and 
even  in  one  of  the  side  boxes,  in  a  scarlet  waistcoat, 
with  rich  f^old  lace,  and  a  gold-laced  hat  He  humor- 
ously observed  to  Mr.  Langton,  '  that  M'hen  in  that 
dress  he  could  not  treat  people  with  the  same  ease  as 
when  in  his  usual  plain  clothes.'  Dress,  indeed,  we 
must  allow,  has  more  effect  even  upon  strong  minds 
than  one  should  suppose,  without  having  had  the 
experience  of  it.  His  necessary  attendance  while  his 
play  was  in  rehearsal,  and  during  its  performance, 
brought  him  acquainted  with  many  of  the  performers 
of  both  sexes,  which  produced  a  more  favourable 
opinion  of  tlieir  profession  than  he  had  harshly  ex- 
pressed in  his  Life  of  Savage.  With  some  of  them  he 
kept  up  an  acquaintance  as  long  as  he  and  they  lived, 
and  was  ever  ready  to  show  them  acts  of  kindness. 
He  for  a  considerable  time  used  to  frequent  the  green- 
room, and  seemed  to  take  delight  in  dissipating  his 
gloom  by  mixing  in  the  sprightly  chit-chat  of  the 
motley  circle  then  to  be  found  there.  Mr.  David 
Hume  related  to  me  from  Mr.  Garrick,  that  Johnson 
at  last  denied  himself  this  amusement,  from  considera- 
tions of  rigid  virtue,  saying,  '  I  '11  come  no  more  be- 
hind your  scenes,  David ;  for  the  silk  stockings  and 
white  bosoms  of  your  actresses  excite  my  amorous 
propensities.'^ 

In  1750  he  came  forth  in  the  character  for  which  he 
was  eminently  qualified,  a  majestic  teacher  of  moral 
and  religious  wisdom.     The  vehicle  which  he  chose 


1  [This  famous  saying  is  at  third  hand — Johnson  said  it  to  Garrick, 
Garrick  repieated  it  to  HumCj  who  told  it  to  BoswcU.  John  Wilkes 
had  his  own  version  of  the  saying. — A.  B.] 


;et.  4i]    LIFE   OF    DR,    JOHNSON         159 

was  that  of  a  periodical  paper^  which  he  knew  had 
been,  upon  former  occasions^  employed  with  great 
success.  The  Taller,  Spectator,  and  Guardian  were 
t}ie  last  of  the  kind  published  in  England^  which  had 
stood  the  test  of  a  long  trial ;  and  such  an  interval 
had  now  elapsed  since  their  publication  as  made  him 
justly  think  that,  to  many  of  his  readers,  this  form  of 
instruction  would,  in  some  degree,  have  the  advantage 
of  novelty.  A  few  days  before  the  first  of  his  essays 
came  out,  there  started  another  competitor  for  fame 
in  the  same  form,  under  the  title  of  The  Tatler  Revived, 
which  I  believe  was  *born  but  to  die.'  Johnson  was, 
I  think,  not  very  happy  in  the  choice  of  his  title — 
The  Rambler,  which  cerfciinly  is  not  suited  to  a  series 
of  grave  and  moral  discourses ;  which  the  Italians 
have  literally,  but  ludicrously,  translated  by  //  Vaga- 
hondo ;  and  which  has  been  lately  assumed  as  the 
denomination  of  a  vehicle  of  licentious  tales.  The 
Rambler's  Magazine.  He  gave  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds 
the  following  account  of  its  getting  its  name  :  *  What 
mutt  be  done,  sir,  will  be  done.  When  I  was  to 
.begin  publishing  that  paper,  I  was  at  a  loss  how  to 
name  it.  I  sat  down  at  night  upon  my  bedside,  and 
resolved  that  I  would  not  go  to  sleep  till  I  had  fixed 
its  title.  The  Rambler  seemed  the  best  tliat  occurred, 
and  I  took  it.'^ 


1  I  have  heard  Dr.  Warton  mention  that  he  was  at  Mr.  Robert 
Dodsley's  with  the  late  Mr.  Moore,  and  several  of  his  friends,  con- 
sidering what  should  be  the  name  of  the  periodical  paper  which  Moore 
bad  undertaken.  Garrick  proposed  the  Sallad,  which,  bv  a  curious 
coincidence,  was  afterwards  applied  to  himself  by  Goldsmith : — 

'Our  Garrick 's  a  sallad,  for  in  him  we  see 
Oil,  vinegar,  sugar,  and  saltness  agree  ! ' 

At  last,  the  company  having  separated,  without  anything  of  which 
they  approved  having  been  offered,  Dodsley  himself  thought  of  Tlu 
World. 


160         LIFE   OP   DR.    JOHNSON       [1750 

With  what  devout  and  conscientious  sentiments  this 
paper  was  undertaken,  is  evidenced  by  the  following 
prayer,  which  he  composed  and  offered  up  on  the 
occasion  :  '  Almighty  God,  the  giver  of  all  good 
things,  without  whose  help  all  labour  is  ineffectual, 
and  without  whose  grace  all  wisdom  is  folly ;  grant, 
I  beseech  Thee,  tl^at  in  this  undertaking  Thy  Holy 
Spirit  may  not  be  withheld  from  me,  but  that  I  may 
promote  Thy  glory,  and  the  salvation  of  myself  and 
others ;  grant  this,  O  Lord,  for  the  sake  of  Thy  Son, 
Jesus  Christ.     Amen.'  ^ 

The  first  paper  of  The  Rambler  was  published  on 
Tuesday  the  20th  of  March  1749-^,  and  its  author  was 
enabled  to  continue  it  without  interruption,  every 
Tuesday  and  Saturday,  till  Saturday  the  17th  of 
March,'*  1752,  on  which  day  it  closed.  This  is  a  strong 
confirmation  of  the  truth  of  a  remark  of  his,  which  I 
have  had  occasion  to  quote  elsewhere,'  that  '  a  man 
may  write  at  any  time  if  he  will  set  himself  doggedly 
to  it ' ;  for,  notwithstanding  his  constitutional  indo- 
lence, his  depression  of  spirits,  and  his  labour  in  carry- 
ing on  his  Dictionary,  he  answered  the  stated  calls  of 
the  press  twice  a  week  from  the  stores  of  his  mind 
during  all  that  time ;  having  received  no  assistance, 
except  four  billets  in  No.  10  by  Miss  Mulso,  now  Mrs. 
Chapone ;  No.  30  by  Mrs.  Catherine  Talbot ;  No. 
97  by  Mr.  Samuel  Richardson,  whom  he  describes  in 

1  Prajferttutd  Meditations. 

*  (This  is  a  mistake  into  which  the  author  was  very  pardonably  led 
by  the  inaccuracy  of  the  original  folio  edition  of  The  Rambler,  in 
which  the  concluding  paper  of  that  work  is  dated  on  '  Saturday,  March 
17.'  But  Saturday  was  in  fact  the  /ourieentk  of  March.  This  cir- 
cumstance, though  it  may  at  first  appear  of  very  little  importance, 
is  yet  worth  notice ;  for  Mrs.  Johnson  died  on  the  seventttnth  d 
March.— M.J 

•  Journal  «/"•  Tour  to  tht  HebricUs, 


iET.  4i]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         161 

an  introductory  note  as  *  an  author  who  has  enlarged 
the  knowledge  of  human  nature  and  taught  the 
passions  to  move  at  the  command  of  virtue ' ;  and 
Nos.  44  and  100  by  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Carter. 

Posterity  will  be  astonished  when  they  are  told 
upon  the  authority  of  Johnson  himself,  that  many  of 
these  discourses,  which  we  should  suppose  had  been 
laboured  with  all  the  slow  attention  of  literary  leisure, 
were  written  in  haste  as  the  moment  pressed,  without 
even  being  read  over  by  him  before  they  were  printed. 
It  can  be  accounted  for  only  in  this  way ;  that  by  read- 
ing and  meditation,  and  a  very  close  inspection  of  life, 
he  had  accumulated  a  great  fund  of  miscellaneous 
knowledge,  which,  by  a  peculiar  promptitude  of  mind, 
was  ever  ready  at  his  call,  and  which  he  had  con- 
stantly accustomed  himself  to  clothe  in  the  most  apt 
and  energetic  expression.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  once 
asked  him  by  what  means  he  had  attained  his  extra- 
ordinary accuracy  and  flow  of  language.  He  told 
him  that  he  had  early  laid  it  down  as  a  fixed  rule  to 
do  his  best  on  every  occasion,  and  in  every  company : 
to  impart  whatever  he  knew  in  the  most  forcible  lan- 
guage he  could  put  it  in  ;  and  that  by  constant 
practice,  and  never  suflFering  any  careless  expressions 
to  escape  him,  or  attempting  to  deliver  his  thoughts 
without  arranging  them  in  the  clearest  manner,  it 
became  habitual  to  him.^ 

Yet  he  was  not  altogether  unprepared  as  a  periodi- 
cal writer ;  for  I  have  in  my  possession  a  small  duo- 


1  [The  rule  which  Mr.  Johnson  observed  is  sanctioned  by  the  au- 
thority of  two  great  writers  of  antiquity :  '  Ne  id  quidem  tacenduiB 
est,  quod  eidem  Ciceroni  placuit,  nullum  nostrum  usquam  negligentem 
esse  sermonem :  quicquid  ioquemur,  uiicunque,  sit  pro  sua  scilicet 
portions ^r/ectum.'    Quinctil.  x.  7.— M.] 


VOIi.  I. 


Ifl2         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1750 

decimo  volume,  in  which  be  has  written,  in  the  form 
of  Mr.  Locke's  Commonplace  Book,  a  variety  of  hint* 
for  eiiays  on  different  subjects.  He  has  marked  upon 
the  first  blunk  leaf  of  it,  'To  the  1 28th  page,  collec- 
tions for  the  Rambler';  and  in  another  place,  'In 
fifly-two  there  were  seventeen  provided  ;  in  97 — 21 ; 
in  190 — 25.'  At  a  subsequent  period  (probably  after 
the  work  wtts  finished)  he  added,  *  In  all,  taken  of 
provided  materials,  30.' 

Sir  John  Hawkins,  who  is  unlucky  upon  all  occa- 
sions, tells  us  that  '  this  method  of  accumulating 
intelligence  had  been  practised  by  Mr.  Addison,  and 
is  humorously  described  in  one  of  the  Spectators, 
wherein  he  fei^^is  to  have  dropped  his  paper  ofnotanda, 
consisting  of  a  diverting  medley  of  broken  sentences 
and  loose  hints,  which  he  tells  us  he  had  collected,  and 
meant  to  make  use  of.  Much  of  the  same  kind  it 
Johnson's  Adversaria.'  ^  But  the  truth  is,  that  there 
is  no  resemblance  at  all  between  them.  Addison's 
note  was  a  fiction,  in  which  unconnected  fragments 
of  his  lucubrations  were  purposely  jumbled  together 
in  as  odd  a  manner  as  he  could,  in  order  to  produce 
a  laughable  effect  \Vliereas  Johnson's  abbreviations 
are  all  distinct,  and  applicable  to  each  subject  of  which 
the  head  is  mentioned. 

For  instance,  there  is  the  following  specimen : 

Youth's  Entry,  etc. 

'Baxter's  aoooont  of  things  in  which  he  had  changed  his 
mind  as  he  grew  up.  Voluminous. — No  wonder. — If  every 
man  was  to  tell,  or  mturk,  on  how  many  subjects  he  has 
changed,  it  would  make  vols,  but  the  changes  not  always 

1  Hawkins's  Li/e  ofjohmon,  p.  368. 


^T.  4i]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  163 

observed  by  man's  self. — From  pleasure  to  bus.  [business]  to 
quiet ;  from  thoughtfulness  to  reflect,  to  piety ;  from  dissipa- 
tion to  domestic,  by  impercept.  gradat.  but  the  change  is 
oertain.  Dial  non  progredi,  progress,  esse  ecmspicimut.  Look 
back,  consider  what  was  Ihought  at  some  dist.  period. 

*  Hope  predom.  in  youth.  Mind  not  willingly  indulges  un- 
pleasing  thoughts.  The  world  lies  all  enamelled  before  him, 
as  a  distant  prospect  sun-gilt ;  ^—inequalities  only  found  by 
coming  to  it.  Love  is  to  be  all  joy — children  excellent— ¥a.me 
to  be  constant — caresses  of  the  great — applauses  of  the  learned 
— smiles  of  Beauty. 

*  Fear  of  disgrace — Bashfulness — Finds  things  of  less  im- 
portance. Miscarriages  forgot  like  excellences; — if  remem- 
bered, of  no  import.  Danger  of  sinking  into  negligence  of 
reputation — lest  the  fear  of  disgrace  destroy  activity. 

'  Confidence  in  himself.  Long  tract  of  life  before  him. — No 
thought  of  sickness. — Embarrassment  of  affairs. — Distraction 
of  family.  Public  calamities. — No  sense  of  the  prevadence  of 
bad  habits.  Negligent  of  time — ready  to  undertake — careless 
to  pursue — all  changed  by  time. 

*  Confident  of  others  —  imsuspecting  as  unexperienced  — 
imagining  himself  secure  against  neglect,  never  imagines  they 
will  venture  to  treat  him  ill.  Ready  to  trust ;  expecting  to 
be  trusted.  Convinced  by  time  of  the  selfishness,  the  mean- 
ness, the  cowardice,  the  treachery  of  men. 

'  Youth  ambitious,  as  thinking  honours  easy  to  be  had. 

'  Different  kinds  of  praise  pursued  at  different  periods.  Of 
the  gay  in  youth. — dang,  hurt,  etc.  despised. 

*0f  the  fancy  in  manhood.  Ambit. — stocks — bargains. — 
Of  the  wise  and  sober  in  old  age — seriousness — formality — 
maxims,  but  general — only  of  the  rich,  otherwise  age  is  happy 
— but  at  last  everything  referred  to  riches — no  having  fame, 
honour,  influence,  without  subjection  to  caprice. 

'Horace. 

'Hard  it  would  be  if  men  entered  life  with  the  same  views 
with  which  they  leave  it,  or  left  as  they  enter  it. — No  hope — 
no  undertaking — no  regard  to  benevolence — no  fear  of  dis- 
grace, etc. 

1  This  most  beautiful  image  of  the  enchanting  delusion  of  youthful 
prospect  has  not  been  used  iu  any  of  Johnson's  essays. 


164         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1750 

'Toath  to  b«  Uoght  the  piety  of  ■«»—•(•  to  retain  the 
honour  of  yoath.' 

This,  it  will  be  observed,  is  the  sketch  of  No.  196 
of  the  Rambler.  I  shall  gratify  my  readers  with 
another  specimen : 

*  Cor\federacie$  difficult :  vhy 

'  Seldom  in  war  a  match  for  single  persom — nor  in  peace ; 
therefore  kings  make  themselves  absolute.  Confederacies  in 
learning — every  great  work  the  work  of  one.  Bruy.  Scholars' 
friendship  like  ladies.  Scribebamos,  etc  Alart.'  The  apple 
of  discord — the  laurel  of  discord— the  poverty  of  criticism. 
Swift's  opinion  of  the  power  of  six  genioses  united.  That 
union  scarce  possible.  His  remarks  just ; — man,  a  social,  not 
steady,  nature.  Drawn  to  man  by  words,  repelled  by  passions. 
Orb  drawn  by  attraction,  rep.  [repeUtd]  by  oentrifugiJ. 

'Cbmmon  danger  unites  by  crushing  other  psssions  bnt 
they  return.  Equality  hinders  compliance.  Superiority 
produces  insolence  and  envy.  Too  much  regard  in  each  to 
private  interest ; — too  little. 

*  The  mischiefs  of  private  and  exclusive  societies. — The  fit- 
ness of  social  attraction  diffused  through  the  whole.  The 
mischiefs  of  too  partial  love  of  our  country.  Contraction  of 
moral  duties. — 01  <t>iK6i  oi  ^/Xot. 

*  Every  man  moves  upon  his  own  centre,  and  therefore 
repels  others  from  too  near  a  contact,  though  he  may  comply 
with  some  general  lows. 

'  Of  confederacy  with  superiors  every  one  knows  the  incon- 
venience. With  equals,  no  authority; — every  man  his  own 
opinion — his  own  interest. 

'  Man  and  wife  hardly  united ; — scarce  ever  without  children. 
Computation,  if  two  to  one  against  two,  how  many  against 
five  ?  If  confederacies  were  easy — useless ; — many  oppresses 
many. — If  possible  only  to  some,  dangerous.  Prineijmm 
amieitias.' 


1  [Lib.  ziL  96 :    'In  Tuccam  aemuluni  omnium  sa«iun  stndiomm.' 
-M.] 


/tT.  4i]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  166 

Here  we  see  the  embryo  of  No.  45  of  the  Adven- 
turer ;  and  it  is  a  confirmation  of  what  I  shall  presently 
have  occasion  to  mention  that  the  papers  in  that  col- 
lection marked  T.  were  written  by  Johnson. 

This  scanty  preparation  of  materials  will  not,  how- 
ever, much  diminish  our  wonder  at  the  extraordinary 
fertility  of  his  mind ;  for  the  proportion  which  they 
bear  to  the  number  of  essays  which  he  wrote  is  very 
small ;  and  it  is  remarkable  that  those  for  which  he  had 
made  no  preparation  are  as  rich  and  as  highly  finished 
as  those  for  which  the  hints  were  lying  by  him.  It  is 
also  to  be  observed  that  the  papers  formed  from  his 
hints  are  worked  up  with  such  strength  and  elegance 
that  we  almost  lose  sight  of  the  hints,  which  become 
like  'drops  in  the  bucket'  Indeed,  in  several  in- 
Rtances^  he  has  made  a  very  slender  use  of  them,  so 
that  many  of  them  remain  still  unapplied.^ 

As  the  Rambler  was  entirely  the  work  of  one  man, 
there  was,  of  course,  such  a  uniformity  in  its  texture 
as  very  much  to  exclude  the  charm  of  variety ;  and  the 
grave  and  often  solemn  cast  of  thinking,  which  distin- 
guished it  from  other  periodical  papers,  made  it,  for 
some  time,  not  generally  liked.  So  slowly  did  this 
excellent  work,  of  which  twelve  editions  have  now 

1  Sir  John  Hawkins  has  selected  from  this  little  collection  of  materials, 
what  he  calls  the  '  Rudiments  of  two  of  the  papers  of  the  Rambler. 
But  he  has  not  been  able  to  read  the  manuscnpc  distinctly.  ,Thus  h« 
writes,  p.  366,  '  Sailor's  fate  anv  mansion '  ;  wnereas  the  original  is. 
'  Sailor  s  life  my  aversion.'  He  has  also  transcribed  the  unappropriated 
hints  on  Writers /or  brtad,  in  which  he  deciphers  these  notable  passages, 
one  in  Latin, y&^wi  non  fama,  instead  of  /ami  non/amee;  Johnson 
having  in  his  mind  what  Thuanus  says  of  the  learned  German  antiquary 
and  linguist,  Xylander,  who,  he  tells  us,  lived  in  such  poverty  that  he 
was  supposed yir>Ki  non/ama  scrib  -re :  and  another  in  French,  DegenU 
d*/att  et  affami  Sargent,  instead  of  DigouU  de  /ame  (an  old  word 
for  renommie\  et  affrmi  iar^ent.  The  manuscript  being  written  in 
an  exceedingly  small  hand,  is  indeed  very  hard  to  read  ;  but  it  would 
have  been  better  to  have  left  blanks  than  to  write  nonsense. 


IW         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1750 

iMued  from  the  press,  gain  upon  the  world  at  lai^, 
that  even  in  the  closing  number  the  author  aajn,  '  I 
have  never  been  much  a  favourite  of  the  public'  * 

Yet,  very  soon  after  ita  commencement,  there  were 
who  felt  and  acknowledged  its  uncommon  excellence. 
Verses  in  its  praise  appeared  in  the  newspapers ;  and 
the  editor  of  the  Gentleman't  Magazine  mentions,  in 
October,  his  having  received  several  letters  to  the 
same  purpose  from  the  learned.  The  Student;  or, 
Oxford  and  Cambridge  Mitcellany,  in  which  Mr. 
Bonnel  Thornton  and  Mr.  Colman  were  the  principal 
writers,  describes  it  as  '  a  work  that  exceeds  anything  of 
the  kind  ever  published  in  this  kingdom,  some  of  the 
^ectatort  excepted — if  indeed  they  may  be  excepted.' 

1  [The  Rambltrt  certainly  were  little  noticed  at  first.  Smart,  the 
poet,  first  mentioned  them  to  me  as  excellent  jvaper*,  before  \  had 
Deard  any  one  else  speak  of  them.  When  I  went  into  Norfolk,  in  the 
autumn  of  1751,  I  found  but  one  person  (tb«  Rev.  Mr.  Squires,  a  man 
of  learning,  and  a  general  purchaser  of  new  booksX  who  knew  any- 
thing of  them.  But  he  had  been  misinformed  concerning  the  tnie 
author,  for  he  had  been  told  they  were  written  by  a  Mr.  Johnson  of 
Canterbtiry,  the  son  of  a  clergyman  who  had  had  a  controversy  with 
Bentley  ;  and  who  had  changed  the  readings  of  the  old  ballad  enutled 
Norton  Falgatt,  in  Bentley  s  bold  W^fiimto  ^tricHlo\  till  not  a  single 
word  of  the  original  song  was  left.  Before  I  left  Norfolk  in  the  year 
1760,  the  Ramblers  were  in  high  favour  among  persons  of  learning  and 
good  taste.  Others  there  were,  devoid  of  both,  who  said  that  the  luwd 
vuords  in  the  Rambltr  were  used  by  the  author  to  render  his  Dictionary 
indispensably  nec^sary. — Burnby.) 

(It  may  not  be  improper  to  correct  a  slight  error  in  the  preceding 
note,  though  it  does  not  at  all  afiect  the  principal  object  of  Dr.  Bumey's 
remark.  The  clergyman  above  alluded  to  was  Mr.  Richard  Johnson, 
schoolmaster  at  Nottingham,  who  in  1717  published  an  octavo  volume 
in  Latin,  against  Bentley's  edition  of  Horace,  entitled  Aristartkm* 
Anti-Btntleianui.  In  the  middle  of  this  Latin  work  (as  Mr.  Bindley 
observes  to  me)  he  has  introduced  four  pages  of  English  criticism,  in 
which  he  ludicrously  corrects,  in  Bentley's  manner,  one  stanza,  not  of 
the  ballad  the  hero  of  which  lived  in  Norton  Falgate,  but  of  a  ballad 
celebrating  the  achievements  of  Tom  Bostock,_who  in  a  sea-fight  per- 
formed prodigies  of  valour.  The  stanza,  on  which  this  ingenious  writer 
has  exercised  his  wit,  is  as  follows  : 

'  Then  old  Tom  Bostock  he  fell  to  the  work. 
He  pray'd  like  a  Christian,  but  fought  like  a  Tnxkf 
And  cut  'em  off  all  in  a  jerk. 
Which  nobody  can  deny,"  etc — M.l 


JET.  4i]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         167 

And  afterwards,  '  May  the  public  favours  crown  his 
merits,  and  may  not  the  English,  under  the  auspicious 
reign  of  George  the  Second,  neglect  a  man,  who,  had 
he  lived  in  the  first  century,  would  have  been  one  of 
the  greatest  favourites  of  Augustus.'  This  flattery 
of  the  monarch  had  no  effect.  It  is  too  well  known, 
that  the  second  George  never  was  an  Augustus  to 
learning  or  genius. 

Johnson  told  me  with  an  amiable  fondness,  a  little 
pleasing  circumstance  relative  to  this  work.  Mrs. 
Johnson,  in  whose  judgment  and  taste  he  had  great 
confidence,  said  to  him,  after  a  few  numbers  of  the 
Rambler  had  come  out,  '  I  thought  very  well  of  you 
before ;  but  I  did  not  imagine  you  could  have  written 
anything  equal  to  this.'  Distant  praise,  from  what- 
ever quarter,  is  not  so  delightful  as  that  of  a  wife 
whom  a  man  loves  and  esteems.  Her  approbation 
may  be  said  to  'come  home  to  his  bosom  ' ;  and  being 
so  near,  its  effect  is  most  sensible  and  permanent. 

Mr.  James  Elphinston,  who  has  since  published 
various  works,  and  who  was  ever  esteemed  by  John- 
son as  a  worthy  man,  happened  to  be  in  Scotland 
while  the  Rambler  was  coming  out  in  single  papers  at 
London.  With  a  laudable  zeal  at  once  for  the  im- 
provement of  his  countrymen,  and  the  reputation  of 
his  friend,  he  suggested  and  took  the  charge  of  an 
edition  of  those  essays  at  Edinburgh,  which  followed 
progressively  the  London  publication.^ 

1  It  was  executed  in  the  printing  office  of  Sands,  Murray,  and 
Cochran,  with  uncommon  elegance,  upon  writing  paper,  of  a  duodecimo 
size,  and  with  the  greatest  correctness :  and  Mr.  Elphinston  enriched 
it  with  translations  of  the  mottoes.  When  completed,  it  made  eight 
handsome  volumes.  It  is,  unquestionably,  the  most  accurate  and 
beautiful  edition  of  this  work :  and  there  being  but  a  small  impres- 
•ion,  it  is  now  become  scarce,  and  sells  at  a  very  high  price. 


168         LIFE   OF   DR    JOHNSON        [1750 

The  following  letter  written  at  this  time,  though  not 
dated,  will  show  how  much  pleased  Johnson  was  with 
this  publication,  and  what  kindness  and  regard  he  had 
for  Mr.  Elphinston  : 

TO  MB.  JAiraS  ELPHINSTOir 

[NodaU.} 
'  DxAK  Sni, — I  cannot  but  eonfess  the  faflures  of  mj  oorra- 
spondenoe,  but  hope  the  same  regard  which  you  expreas  for  ms 
on  every  other  occasion  will  incline  you  to  forgive  me.  I  am 
often,  Tery  often,  ill ;  and,  when  I  am  well,  am  obliged  to 
work :  and,  indeed,  have  never  much  uaed  myielf  to  pnneta- 
allty.  Tou  are,  however,  not  to  make  unkind  inferences, 
when  I  forbear  to  reply  to  your  kindness ;  for  be  assured,  I 
never  receive  a  letter  from  you  without  great  pleasure,  and  a 
▼ery  warm  sense  of  your  generosity  and  friendship,  which  I 
hesftily  blame  myself  for  not  cultivating  with  more  care.  In 
this,  as  in  many  other  cases,  I  go  wrong,  in  opposition  to 
conviction ;  for  I  think  scarce  any  temporal  good  equally  to 
ha  desired  with  the  regard  and  familiarity  of  worthy  men.  I 
hope  we  shall  be  some  time  nearer  to  each  other,  and  have  a 
more  ready  way  of  pouring  out  our  hearts. 

*I  am  glad  that  you  still  find  encouragement  to  proceed  in 
your  publication,  and  shall  beg  the  favour  of  six  more  volumes 
to  add  to  my  former  six,  when  you  can,  with  any  convenience, 
send  them  me.  Please  to  present  a  set,  in  my  name,  to  Mr. 
Buddiman,^  of  whom  I  hear  that  bis  learning  is  not  his 
highest  excellence.  I  have  transcribed  the  mottoes,  and  re- 
turned them,  I  hope  not  too  late,  of  which  I  think  many  very 
happily  performed.  Mr.  Cave  has  put  the  last  in  the 
Magazine,*  in  which  I  think  he  did  welL     I  beg  of  you  to 

1  Mr.  Thomas  Ruddiman,  the  learned  erammarian  of  Scotland, 
well  known  for  bis  various  excellent  works,  and  for  his  accurate 
editions  of  several  authors.  He  was  also  a  man  of  a  most  worthy 
private  character.  _  His  zeal  for  the  roj'al  house  of  Stuart  did  itot 
render  him  less  estimable  in  Dr.  Johnson's  eye. 

*  Ilf  the  Magazine  here  referred  to  be  that  for  October  1752  (see 
Gentleman  s  Magazine,  vol.  xxii.  p.  468),  then  this  letter  belongs  to  a 
later  period.  If  it  relates  to  the  Magazine  for  Sept.  1750  (see  GentU- 
man's  Magatine,  voL  xx.  p.  406),  then  it  may  be  ascribed  to  the  month  of 
October  in  that  year,  and  should  have  followedthe  subsequent  letter. — M.] 


,fiT.  41]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         1G9 

•write  Boon,  and  to  write  often,  and  to  write  long  letters,  which 
I  hope  in  time  to  repay  you;  but  you  must  be  a  patient  creditor. 
I  have,  however,  this  of  gratitude,  that  I  think  of  you  with 
regard,  when  I  do  not,  perhaps,  give  the  proofs  which  I  ought, 
of  being,  sir,  your  most  obliged  and  most  humble  servant, 

'  Sam.  Johnson.' 

This  year  he  wrote  to  the  same  geutleman  another 
letter  upon  a  mournful  occasion  : 


TO    mu  JAMES   ELPHINSTON 

September  25,  1750. 
'Dkak  Sm, — You  have,  as  I  find  by  every  kind  of  evidence, 
lost  an  excellent  mother ;  and  I  hope  you  will  not  think  me 
incapable  of  partaking  of  your  grief.  I  have  a  mother,  now 
eighty-two  years  of  age,  whom,  therefore,  I  must  soon  lose, 
miless  it  please  God  that  she  should  rather  mourn  for  me.  I 
read  the  letters  in  which  you  relate  your  mother's  death  to 
Mrs.  Strahan,  and  think  I  do  myself  honour,  when  I  tell  you 
that  I  read  them  with  tears ;  but  tears  are  neither  to  you  nor 
to  «n«  of  any  farther  use,  when  once  the  tribute  of  nature  has 
been  paid.  The  business  of  life  summons  us  away  from  use- 
leas  grief,  and  calls  us  to  the  exercise  of  those  virtues  of  which 
we  are  lamenting  our  deprivation.  The  greatest  benefit  which 
one  friend  can  confer  upon  another,  is  to  guard,  and  excite, 
and  elevate,  his  virtues.  This  your  mother  will  still  perform, 
if  you  diligently  preserve  the  memory  of  her  life,  and  of  her 
death ;  a  life,  so  far  as  I  can  learn,  useful,  wise,  and  innocent; 
and  a  death  resigned,  peaceful,  and  holy.  I  cannot  forbear 
to  mention,  that  neither  reason  nor  revelation  denies  you  to 
hope,  that  you  may  increase  her  happiness  by  obeying  her 
precepts ;  and  that  she  may,  in  her  present  state,  look  with 
pleasure  upon  every  act  of  virtue  to  which  her  instructions  or 
example  have  contributed.  Whether  this  be  more  than  a 
pleasing  dream,  or  a  just  opinion  of  separate  spirits,  is,  indeed, 
of  no  great  importance  to  us,  when  we  consider  ourselves  as 
acting  under  the  eye  of  God :  yet,  surely,  there  is  something 
pleasing  in  the  belief,  that  our  separation  from  those  whom 
we  love  is  merely  corporeal ;  and  it  may  be  a  great  incitement 


170         LIFE   OF  DR.    JOHNSON       [1750 

to  Tirtnoiu  friendihip,  if  it  ean  be  made  probable,  that  that 
union  that  haa  reeeiTed  the  dirine  approbation  ahall  oontintw 
to  eteniitj. 

'There  is  one  expedient  by  which  yon  may,  in  aome  degree, 
eontinue  her  preaenoe.  If  you  write  down  minutely  what  joa 
remember  of  her  from  your  earliest  yean,  you  will  read  it 
with  great  pleasure,  and  reoeire  from  it  many  hints  of  sooth- 
ing recollection,  when  time  shall  remove  her  yet  farther  from 
yon,  and  your  grief  shall  be  matured  to  veneration.  To  this, 
however  painful  for  the  present,  I  cannot  but  advise  yon,  as 
to  a  source  of  comfort  and  satisfaction  in  the  time  to  come ; 
for  all  comfort  and  all  satisfaction  is  sincerely  wished  you 
by,  dear  sir,  your  meet  obliged,  most  obedient,  and  most 
humble  servant,  Sax.  Joavsoii.' 

The  Rambler  has  increased  in  fame  as  in  age.  Soon 
after  its  first  folio  edition  was  concluded,  it  was  pub- 
lished in  six  duodecimo  volumes ;  ^  and  its  author 
lived  to  see  ten  numerous  editions  of  it  in  London, 
beside  those  of  Ireland  and  Scotland. 

I  profess  myself  to  have  ever  entertained  a  profound 
veneration  for  the  astonishing  force  and  vivacity  of 
mind  which  the  Rambler  exhibits.  That  Johnson  had 
penetration  enough  to  see,  and  seeing  would  not  dis- 
guise the  general  misery  of  man  in  this  state  of  being, 
may  have  given  rise  to  the  superficial  notion  of  his 
being  too  stern  a  philosopher.  But  men  of  reflection 
will  be  sensible  that  he  has  g^ven  a  true  representation 

1  [This  is  not  quite  acctirate.  In  the  Gentlemtait  Ma^ttsine  for  Nov. 
1751,  while  the  work  was  yet  proceeding,  is  an  advertisement  announcing 
thM/bur  volumes  of  the  Rambler  would  speedily  be  published  ;  and  it 
is  believed  that  they  were  published  in  the  next  month.  _  The  fifth 
and  sixth  volumes,  with  tables  of  contents  and  translations  of  the 
mottoes,  were  published  in  July  1752,  by  Payne  (the  original  publisher), 
three  months  si'ter  the  close  of  the  work. 

When  the  Rambltr  was  collected  into  volumes,  Johnson  revised  and 
corrected  it  throughout,  llie  original  octavo  edition  not  having  fallen 
into  Mr.  Boswell's  hands,  he  was  not  aware,  of  this  circumstance,  which 
has  lately  been  pointed  out  by  Mr.  Alexander  Chalmers  in  a  new 
edition  of  these  and  various  other  periodical  essays,  under  the  title  of 
the  British  Essayists. — M.] 


JET.Ai]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         171 

of  human  existence,  and  that  he  has,  at  the  same  time, 
with  a  generous  benevolence  displayed  every  con- 
solation which  our  state  affords  us ;  not  only  those 
arising  from  the  hopes  of  futurity,  but  such  as  may 
be  attained  in  the  immediate  progress  through  life. 
He  has  not  depressed  the  soul  to  despondency  and 
indifference.  He  has  everywhere  inculcated  study, 
labour,  and  exertion.  Nay,  he  has  shown,  in  a  very 
odious  light,  a  man  whose  practice  is  to  go  about 
darkening  the  views  of  others,  by  perpetual  complaints 
of  evil,  and  awakening  those  considerations  of  danger 
and  distress,  which  are,  for  the  most  part,  lulled  into  a 
quiet  oblivion,  lliis  he  has  done  very  strongly  in  his 
character  of  Suspirius,*  from  which  Goldsmith  took 
that  of  Croaker,  in  his  comedy  of  The  Good-natured 
Man,  as  Johnson  told  me  he  acknowledged  to  him, 
and  which  is,  indeed,  very  obvious. 

To  point  out  the  numerous  subjects  which  the 
Rambler  treats,  with  a  dignity  and  perspicuity  which 
are  there  united  in  a  manner  which  we  shall  in  vain 
look  for  anywhere  else,  would  take  up  too  large  a 
portion  of  my  book,  and  would,  I  trust,  be  superfluous, 
considering  how  universally  those  volumes  are  now 
disseminated.  Even  the  most  condensed  and  brilliant 
sentences  which  they  contain,  and  which  have  very 
properly  been  selected  under  the  name  of '  Beauties,' ' 
are  of  considerable  bulk.     But  I  may  shortly  observe. 


»  JNO.  55. 

S  Dr.  Johnson  was  gratified  by  seeing  this  selection,  and  wrote  to 
Mr.  Kearslcy,  bookseller  in  Fleet  Street,  the  following  note  : 

'  Mr.  Johnson  sends  compliments  to  Mr.  Kearsley,  and  begs  the 
favotir  of  seeing  him  as  soon  as  he  can.  Mr.  Kearsley  is  desired  to 
bring  with  him  the  last  edition  of  what  be  has  honoured  with  the  namtt 
of  "Beauties." 

'May  30,  1782.' 


172         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1750 

that  the  Rambler  furnishes  such  an  assemblage  of 
discourse*  on  practical  religion  and  moral  duty,  of 
critical  investigations,  and  allegorical  and  oriental 
tales,  that  no  mind  can  be  thought  very  deficient 
that  haj;,  by  constant  study  and  meditation,  assimilated 
to  itself  all  that  may  be  found  there.  No.  7,  written 
in  Passion  week  on  abstraction  and  self-examination, 
and  No.  110,  on  penitence  and  the  placability  of  the 
Divine  Nature,  cannot  be  too  often  read.  No.  64,  on 
the  effect  which  the  death  of  a  friend  should  have  upon 
us,  though  rather  too  dispiriting,  may  be  occasionally 
very  medicinal  to  the  mind.  Every  one  must  suppose 
the  writer  to  have  been  deeply  impressed  by  a  real 
scene ;  but  he  told  me  that  was  not  the  case,  which 
shows  how  well  his  fancy  could  conduct  him  to  the 
'house  of  mourning.'  Some  of  these  more  solemn 
papers,  I  doubt  not,  particularly  attracted  the  notice 
of  Dr.  Young,  the  author  of  The  I^'ight  Thoughts,  of 
whom  my  estimation  is  such  as  to  reckon  his  applause 
an  honour  even  to  Johnson.  I  have  seen  volumes  of 
Dr.  Young's  copy  of  the  Rambler,  in  which  he  has 
marked  the  passages  which  he  thought  particularly 
excellent,  by  folding  down  a  corner  of  the  page  ;  and 
such  as  he  rated  in  a  super-eminent  degree  are  marked 
by  double  folds.  I  am  sorry  that  some  of  the  volumes 
are  lost  Johnson  was  pleased  when  told  of  the 
minute  attention  with  which  Young  had  signified  his 
approbation  of  his  Essays. 

I  will  venture  to  say,  that  in  no  writings  whatever 
can  be  found  more  bark  and  steel  for  the  mind,  if  I 
may  use  the  expression  ;  more  that  can  brace  and 
in^'igorate  every  manly  and  noble  sentiment.  No.  32, 
on  patience,  even  under  extreme  misery,  is  wonder- 


iET.  4i]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         173 

fully  lofty,  and  as  much  above  the  rant  of  stoicism  as 
the  Sun  of  Revelation  is  brighter  than  the  twilight  of 
Pagan  philosophy.  I  never  read  the  following  sentence 
without  feeling  my  frame  thrill :  '  I  think  there  is  some 
reason  for  questioning  whether  the  body  and  mind  are 
not  so  proportioned  that  the  one  can  bear  all  which 
can  be  inflicted  on  the  other ;  whether  virtue  cannot 
stand  its  ground  as  long  as  life^  and  whether  a  soul  well 
principled  will  not  be  sooner  separated  than  subdued.' 
Though  instruction  be  the  predominant  purpose  of 
the  Rambler,  yet  it  is  enlivened  with  a  considerable 
poition  of  amusement  Nothing  can  be  more  errone- 
ous than  the  notion  which  some  persons  have  enter- 
tained, that  Johnson  was  then  a  retired  author, 
ignorant  of  the  world  ;  and,  of  consequence,  that  he 
wrote  only  from  his  imagination,  when  he  described 
characters  and  manners.  He  said  to  me,  that  before 
he  wrote  that  work,  he  had  been  '  running  about  the 
world,'  as  he  expressed  it,  more  than  almost  anybody; 
and  I  have  heard  him  relate,  with  much  satisfaction, 
that  several  of  the  characters  in  the  Rambler  were  drawn 
80  naturally,  that  when  it  first  circulated  in  numbers, 
a  club,  in  one  of  the  towns  in  Essex,  imagined  them- 
selves to  be  severally  exhibited  in  it,  and  were  much 
incensed  against  a  person  who,  they  suspected,  had 
thus  made  them  objects  of  public  notice ;  nor  were 
they  quieted  till  authentic  assurance  was  given  them, 
that  the  Rambler  was  written  by  a  person  who  had 
never  heard  of  any  one  of  them.  Some  of  the  characters 
are  believed  to  have  been  actually  drawn  from  the 
life,  particularly  that  of  Prospero  from  Garrick,*  who 

1  [That  of  Gelidus  in  No.  24,  from  Professor  Colson  (see  p.  70  of 
this  vol.),  and  that  of  Eupbues  m  the  same  paper,  which,  with  many 


174         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1750 

never  entirely  forgave  its  pointed  latire.  For  instances 
of  fertility  of  fuucy,  and  accurate  dewription  of  real 
life,  I  appeal  to  No.  19,  a  man  who  wanders  from 
one  profession  to  another,  with  most  plausible  reasona 
for  every  change :  No.  34,  female  fastidiousness  and 
timorous  refinement:  No.  82,  a  virtuoso  who  has 
collected  curiosities:  No.  88,  petty  modes  of  enter- 
taining a  company,  and  conciliating  kindness:  No. 
182,  fortune  hunting:  No.  194-195,  a  tutor's  account 
of  the  follies  of  hia  pupil :  No.  197-198,  legacy  hunt- 
ing. He  has  given  a  specimen  of  his  nice  observation 
of  the  mere  external  appearances  of  life,  in  the  follow- 
ing passage  in  No.  179,  against  affectation,  that  fre- 
quent and  mo!>t  disgusting  quality :  *  He  that  stands 
to  contemplate  the  crowds  that  fill  the  streets  of  a 
populous  city,  will  see  many  passengers,  whose  air 
and  motions  it  will  be  difficult  to  behold  without 
contempt  and  laughter ;  but  if  he  examine  what  are 
the  appearances  that  thus  powerfully  excite  his  risi- 
bility, he  will  find  among  them  neither  poverty  nor 
disease,  nor  any  involuntary  or  painful  defect.  The 
disposition  to  derision  and  insult  is  awakened  by  the 
softness  of  foppery,  the  swell  of  insolence,  the  liveli- 
ness of  levity,  or  the  solemnity  of  grandeur ;  by  the 
sprightly  trip,  the  stately  stalk,  the  formal  strut,  and 
the  lofty  mien ;  by  g^estures  intended  to  catch  the 
eye,  and  by  looks  elaborately  formed  as  evidences  of 
importance.' 


others,  was  doubtless  drawn  from  the  life.  Euphues,  I  once  thought, 
might  have  been  intended  to  represent  either  Lord  Chesterfield  or 
Soame  Jenyns ;  but  Mr.  Bindley,  with  more  probability,  thinks  that 
George  Bubb  Dodington,  who  was  remarkable  for  the  homeliness  of 
bis  person  and  the  finery  of  bis  dress,  was  the  person  meant  tinder  that 
character. — M.] 


/ET.  4i]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         175 

Every  page  of  the  Rambler  sbows  a  mind  teeming 
with  classical  allusion  and  poetical  imagery  :  illustra- 
tions from  other  writers  are,  upon  all  occasions,  so 
ready,  and  mingle  so  easily  in  his  periods,  that  the 
whole  appears  of  one  uniform  vivid  texture. 

The  style  of  this  work  has  been  censured  by  some 
shallow  critics  as  involved  and  turgid,  and  abounding 
with  antiquated  and  hard  words.  So  ill-founded  is  the 
first  part  of  this  objection,  that  I  will  challenge  all  who 
may  honour  this  book  with  a  perusal,  to  point  out  any 
English  writer  whose  language  conveys  his  meaning 
with  equal  force  and  perspicuity.  It  must,  indeed,  be 
allowed,  that  the  structure  of  his  sentences  is  expanded, 
and  often  has  somewhat  of  the  inversion  of  Latin  ;  and 
that  he  delighted  to  express  familiar  thoughts  in  philo- 
sophical language ;  being  in  this  the  reverse  of  Socrates, 
who,  it  is  said,  reduced  philosophy  to  the  simplicity  of 
common  life.  But  let  us  attend  to  what  he  b-'mself 
says  in  his  concluding  paper  :  *  When  common  words 
were  less  pleasing  to  the  ear,  or  less  distinct  in  their 
Bignification,  I  have  familiarised  the  terms  of  philo- 
sophy, by  applying  them  to  popular  ideas.  *  ^  And,  as 
to  the  second  part  of  this  objection,  upon  a  late  care- 
ful revision  of  the  work,  I  can  with  confidence  say, 
that  it  is  amazing  how  few  of  those  words,  for  which 
it  has  been  unjustly  characterised,  are  actually  to  be 
found  in  it ;  I  am  sure,  not  the  proportion  of  one  to 
each  paper.  This  idle  charge  has  been  echoed  from 
one  babbler  to  another,  who  have  confounded  Johnson's 
Essays  with  Johnson's  Dictionary ',   and  because  he 

1  Yet  his  style  did  not  escap>e  the  hannless  shafts  of  pleasant  humour ; 
for  the  ingenious  Bonnell  Thornton  published  a  mock  Rambler  in  the 
Drury  Lant  Journal. 


176         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1750 

thought  it  right  in  a  lexicon  of  our  language  to 
collect  many  words  which  had  fallen  into  disuse,  but 
were  supported  by  great  authorities,  it  haa  been 
imagined  that  all  of  these  have  been  interwoven  into 
his  own  compositions.  That  some  of  them  have  been 
adopted  by  him  unnecessarily,  may,  perhaps,  be 
allowed  ;  but,  in  general,  they  are  evidently  an  ad- 
vantage, for  without  them  his  stately  ideas  would  be 
confined  and  cramped.  *  He  that  thinks  with  more 
extent  than  another,  will  want  words  of  larger  mean- 
ing. '  ^  He  once  told  me,  that  he  had  formed  his  style 
upon  that  of  Sir  William  Temple,  and  upon  Chambers's 
Proposal  for  his  Dictionary.*  He  certainly  was  mis- 
taken ;  or  if  he  imagined  at  first  that  he  was  imitating 
Temple,  he.was  very  unsuccessful ;'  for  nothing  can 
be  more  unlike  than  the  simplicity  of  Temple,  and 
the  richness  of  Johnson.  Their  styles  differ  as  plain 
cloth  and  brocade.  Temple,  indeed,  seems  equally 
erroneous  in  supposing  that  he  himself  had  formed 
his  style  upon  Sandys's  View  of  the  State  qf  Religion 
in  the  Western  parts  of  the  World. 

The  style  of  Johnson  was,  undoubtedly,  much  formed 
upon  that  of  the  great  writers  in  the  last  century, 

1  IdUr,  No.  70. 

'  [The  Paper  here  alluded  to,  wai,  I  belieTC,  Chambers's  Proposal 
for  a  second  and  impro%-ed  edition  of  his  Dictionary,  which,  I  toink, 
appeared  in  1738.  This  I*roposal  was  probably  in  drcolation  in  1737, 
wnenjohnson  mstcame  to  London.  — M.] 

'  [The  author  appears  to  me  to  have  misunderstood  Johnson  in  this 
instance.  He  did  not,  I  conceive,  mean  to  say  that,  when  he  first 
began  to  write,  he  made  Sir  William  Temple  his  model,  with  a  view  to 
form  a  style  that  should  resemble  bis  in  all  its  parts  ;  but  that  he 
formed  his  style  on  that  of  Temple  and  others,  by  talune  from  each 
those  characteristic  excellences  which  were  most  worthy  of  imitation. 
See  this  matter  further  explained  in  vol.  iii.  under  April  9,  1778,  where, 
in  a  conversation  at  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's,  Johnson  himself  mentions 
the  particular  improvements  which  Temple  made  in  the  English  style. 
These,  doubtless,  were  the  objects  of  his  imitation,  so  far  as  that  wnter 
was  his  model. — M.] 


iET.4i]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON         177 

Hooker,  Bacon,  Sanderson,  Ilakewell,^  and  others; 
those  '  Giants,'  as  they  were  well  characterised  by  a 
Great  Personage,  whose  authority,  were  I  to  name 
him,  would  stamp  a  reverence  on  the  opinion. 

We  may,  with  the  utmost  propriety,  apply  to  hig 
learned  style  that  passage  of  Horace,  a  part  of  which 
he  has  taken  as  the  motto  to  his  Dictionary : 

'Com  tabulis  animnra  censoris  gurnet  honest! : 
Andebit  qoacumque  panun  splendoris  habebnnt, 
Et  sine  pondere  erunt,  et  honore  indigna  ferentor. 
Verba  movere  loco ;  quamvis  invita  reccdant, 
Et  versentur  adhuc  iutra  penetralia  Vestss : 
Obeoorata  diu  populo  bonua  cruet,  atque 
Proferet  in  lucem  spociosa  vocabula  rerum, 
QoiB  priscis  memorata  Catonibna  atque  Cethegis, 
Nunc  situs  inf onnis  premit  et  deserta  vetustas : 
AdscLscet  nova,  quse  genitor  produxerit  uaus : 
VehcmeuB,  et  liquidus,  puroque  simillimus  anmi, 
Fundet  opca,  Latiumque  beabit  dirite  lingua.'  * 

To  so  great  a  master  of  thinking,  to  one  of  such 
vast  and  various  knowledge  as  Johnson,  might  have 
been  allowed  a  liberal  indulgence  of  that  licence  which 
Horace  claims  in  another  place  : 

'  Si  forte  necesse  est 
Indiciis  monstrare  recentibus  abdita  rerum, 
Fiugere  cinctutis  non  exaudita  Cethegis 
Ck>ntinget ;  dabiturque  licentia  sumpta  pudenter : 
Et  nova  fictaque  nuper  habebunt  verba  fidem,  si 
Grseco  fonte  cadent,  parce  detorta.    Quid  autem 
Cncilio  Plautoque  dabit  Romanus,  adeuiptum 
Virgilio  Varioque  ?    Ego  cur,  acquirere  pauca 


*  [Hakewell  was  Rector  of  Exeter  College,  Oxford,  in  164a,  and 
onwards  till  his  death  in  1649.  His  reputation  has  disappeared.  The 
Great  Personage  is  of  courre  the  King. — A.  B.] 

S  Horat.  £pitt.  Lib.  iL,  Epist.  3,  v.  mo. 

VOL.   I.  M 


178         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1750 

8i  poiBnin,  invideor ;  eum  lingn*  Cktonii  et  Eant 
Bennonem  patrium  ditAvcrit,  et  nov»  rerum 
Nomina  protulerit  ?    Licuit,  •emperqoe  lioeUt 
Bignatum  pnesente  noU  produocre  nomen.*  ^ 

Yet  Johnson  assured  me,  that  he  had  not  taken  upon 
him  to  add  more  than  four  or  five  words  to  the  En|(- 
lish  language,  of  his  own  information ;  and  he  was 
very  much  offended  at  the  general  licence  by  no  means 
'  modestly  taken '  in  his  time,  not  only  to  coin  new 
words,  but  tu  use  many  words  in  senses  quite  different 
from  their  established  meaning,  and  those  frequently 
very  fantasticaL 

Sir  Thomas  Browne,  whose  life  Johnson  wrote,  was 
remarkably  fond  of  Anglo-Latin  diction  ;  and  to  his 
example  we  are  to  ascribe  Johnson's  sometimes  in- 
dulging himself  in  this  kind  of  phraseology.*  John- 
son's comprehension  of  mind  was  the  mould  for  his 
language.  Had  his  conceptions  been  narrower,  his 
expression  would  have  been  easier.  His  sentences 
have  a  dignified  march  ;  and  it  is  certain  that  his 
example  has  given  a  general  elevation  to  the  language 
of  his  country,  for  many  of  our  best  writers  have 
approached  very  near  to  him  ;  and,  from  the  influence 
which  he  has  had  upon  our  composition,  scarcely 
anything  is  written  now  that  is  not  better  expressed 
than  was  usual  before  he  appeared  to  lead  the  national 
taste. 

^  YlonX.  Dt  Arte  Poetica,  v.  ^i. 

3  The  observation  of  his  having  imitated  Sir  Thomas  Browne  has 
been  made  by  many  people  :  and  lately  it  has  been  insisted  on,  and 
illustrated  by  a  variety  of  quotations  from  Browne  in  one  of  the  poptilar 
essays  written  by  the  Reverend  Mr.  Knox,  Master  of  Tunbridge  Scnool, 
whom  I  have  set  down  in  my  list  of  those  who  have  sometimes  not 
unsuccessfully  imitated  Dr.  Johnson's  sr>-Ie. 

(Browne's  own  style  has  been  most  successfully  imitated.  Seethe  'Frag- 
meut  on  Mummies.' — Works,  Willcins'  edition,  vol.  iv.  p.  274.—  A.  B.j 


JET.4I]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         179 

This  circumstance,  the  truth  of  which  must  strike 
every  critical  reader,  has  been  so  happily  enforced  by 
Mr.  Courtenay,  in  his  Moral  and  Literary  Character 
qf  Dr.  Johnson,  that  I  cannot  prevail  on  myself  to 
withhold  it,  notwithstanding  his,  perhaps,  too  g^eat 
partiality  for  one  of  his  friends  : 

'By  nature's  gifts  ordain'd  mankind  to  role, 
He,  like  a  Titan,  form'd  his  brilliant  school ; 
And  taught  congenial  spirits  to  excel. 
While  from  his  lips  impressive  wisdom  fell. 
Our  boasted  Goldsmith  felt  the  sovereign  sway ; 
From  him  derived  the  sweet,  yet  nervous  lay. 
To  Fame's  proud  cliff  he  bade  our  Raffaelle  rise ; 
Hence  Reynolds'  pen  with  Reynolds'  pencil  vies. 
With  Johnson's  flame  melodious  Bumey  glows, 
While  the  grand  strain  in  smoother  cadence  flows. 
And  you,  Slalone,  to  critic  learning  dear, 
Correct  and  el^ant,  refined  though  dear, 
By  studying  him,  acquired  that  classic  taste, 
Which  high  in  Shakespeare's  fane  thy  statue  placed. 
Near  Johnson  Steevens  stands,  on  scenic  ground. 
Acute,  laborious,  fertile,  and  profoimd. 
Ingenious  Hawkesworth  to  this  school  we  owe, 
And  scarce  the  pupil  from  the  tutor  know. 
Here  early  parts  accomplish'd  Jones  sublimes, 
And  science  blends  with  Asia's  lofty  rhymes : 
Harmonious  Jones !  who  in  his  splendid  strains 
Sings  Camdeo's  sports,  on  Agra's  flowery  plains, 
In  Hindu  fictions  while  we  fondly  trace 
Love  and  the  Muses,  deck'd  with  Attic  grace. 
Amid  these  names  can  Boswell  be  forgot, 
Scarce  by  North  Britons  now  estecm'd  a  Scot  ?  i 


1  The  following  observation  in  Mr.  'Bosvrell's /oumai  of  a  Tour  ta 
the  Hebrides  may  sufficiently  account  for  that  gentleman's  being  '  now 
scarcely  esteemed  a  Scot'  by  many  of  his  countrymen: — 'If  he  (Dr. 
Johnson)  was  particularly  prejudiced  against  the  Scots,  it  was  because 
they  were  more  in  his  way  ;  because  he  thought  their  success  in  £ng- 
Und  rather  exceeded  the  due  proportion  of  their  real  merit;  and 
because  be  could  not  but  see  in  them  that  i^tionality  which,  I  believe, 


180         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1750 

Who  to  the  Mge  devoted  from  his  youth. 

Imbibed  from  him  the  saored  love  of  truth ; 

The  kcon  research,  the  exercise  of  mind. 

And  that  beat  art,  the  art  to  know  mankind. — 

Nor  was  hia  energy  confined  alone 

To  friends  around  hia  philosophic  throne ; 

JU  injluence  \oide  improved  our  leUer'd  itU^ 

And  lucid  vigour  marled  the  general  ttyU : 

As  Nile's  proud  waves,  swoln  from  their  ooej  bed. 

First  o'er  the  neighbouring  meads  majestic  spread ; 

Till,  gathering  force,  thej  more  and  more  expand. 

And  with  new  virtue  fertilise  the  land.' 

Johnson's  langua^^e,  however,  must  be  allowed  to 
be  too  masculine  for  the  delicate  gentleness  of  female 
writing.  His  ladies,  therefore,  seem  strangely  formal, 
even  to  ridicule  ;  and  are  well  denominated  by  the 
names  which  he  has  given  them,  as  Misella,  Zozima, 
Properantia,  Rhodoclia. 

It  has  of  late  been  the  fashion  to  compare  the  style 
of  Addison  and  Johnson,  and  to  depreciate,  I  think, 
very  unjustly,  the  style  of  Addison  as  nerveless  and 
feeble,  because  it  has  not  the  strength  and  energy  of 
that  of  Johnson.  Their  prose  may  be  balanced  like 
the  poetry  of  Dryden  and  Pope.  Both  are  excellent, 
though  in  different  ways.  Addison  writes  with  the 
ease  of  a  gentleman.  His  readers  fancy  that  a  wise 
and  accomplished  companion  is  talking  to  them  ;  so 
that  he  insinuates  his  sentiments  and  taste  into  their 
minds  by  an  imperceptible  influence.  Johnson  writea 
like  a  teacher.     He  dictates  to  his  readers  as  if  from 


no  liberal-minded  Scotchman  will  deny.'  Mr.  Boswell,  indeed,  b  so 
free  from  national  prejudices,  that  he  might  with  equal  propriety  have 
been  described  as — 

'  Scarce  by  South  Britons  now  esteem 'd  a  Scot. ' 

— COORTBNAT. 


JET.  41]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  181 

an  academical  chair.  They  attend  with  awe  and 
admiration  ;  and  his  precepts  are  impressed  upon 
them  by  his  commanding  eloquence.  Addison's  style, 
like  a  light  wine,  pleases  everybody  from  the  first. 
Johnson's,  like  a  liquor  of  more  body,  seems  too 
strong  at  first,  but  by  degrees  is  highly  relished  ;  and 
such  is  the  melody  of  his  periods,  so  much  do  they 
captivate  the  ear,  and  seize  upon  the  attention,  that 
there  is  scarcely  any  writer,  however  inconsiderable, 
who  does  not  aim,  in  some  degree,  at  the  same  species 
of  excellence.  But  let  us  not  ungratefully  under- 
value that  beautiful  style,  which  has  pleasingly  con- 
veyed to  us  much  instruction  and  entertainment. 
Though  comparatively  weak,  opposed  to  Johnson's 
Herculean  vigour,  let  us  not  call  it  positively  feeble. 
Let  us  remember  the  character  of  his  style,  as  given 
by  Johnson  himself : — '  What  he  attempted,  he  per- 
formed ;  he  is  never  feeble,  and  he  did  not  wish  to  be 
energetic  ;  he  is  never  rapid,  and  he  never  stagnates. 
His  sentences  have  neither  studied  amplitude,  nor 
affected  brevity :  his  periods,  though  not  diligently 
rounded,  are  voluble  and  easy.^    Whoever  wishes  to 


1  [When  Johnson  showed  me  a  proof-sheet  of  the  character  of 
Addison,  in  which  he  so  highly  extols  his  style,  I  could  not  help 
observing  that  it  had  not  been  his  own  model,  as  no  two  styles  could 
differ  more  from  each  other. — '  Sir,  Addison  had  his  style,  and  I  have 
mine.'  When  I  ventured  to  ask  him  whether  the  difference  did  not 
consist  in  this,  that  Addison|s  style  was  fulj  of  idioms,  colloquial 
phrases,  and  proverbs,  and  his  own  more  strictly  grammatical,  and 
free  from  such  phraseology  and  modes  of  speech  as  can  never  \» 
literally  translated  or  understood  by  foreigners,  he  allowed  the  dis- 
crimination to  be  just.  Let  any  one  who  doubts  it  try  to  translate  one 
of  Addison's  Spectators  into  Latin,  French,  or  Italian  ;  and  though  so 
easy,  familiar,  and  elegant  to  an  Englishman  as  to  give  the  intellect 
no  trouble,  yet  he  would  find  the  transfusion  into  another  language 
extremely  difficult,  if  not  impossible.  But  a  Rambler,  Adventurer,  or 
IdUr  of  Johnson  would  faU  into  any  classical  or  European  language  aa 
eaaly  as  if  it  bad  been  orig^inally  conceived  in  it. — Burnev.] 


182         LIFE   OP   DR.    JOHNSON       [1750 

attain  an  English  style,  familiar  but  not  coane,  and 
elegant  but  not  ostentatious,  munt  give  his  dajra  and 
nights  to  the  volumes  of  Addison.'^ 

Though  the  Itambter  was  not  concluded  till  the  year 
1752,  I  shall;  under  this  year,  say  all  that  I  have  to 
observe  upon  it.  Some  of  the  translations  of  the 
mottoes  by  himself  are  admirably  done.  He  acknow- 
ledges to  have  received  '  elegant  translations '  of  many 
of  them  from  Mr.  James  Elphinston;  and  some  are  very 
happily  translated  by  a  Mr.  F.  Lewis,  of  whom  I  never 
heard  more,  except  that  Johnson  thus  described  him 
to  Mr.  Malone :  '  Sir,  he  lived  in  London,  and  hung 
loose  upon  society. '*  The  concluding  paper  of  his 
Rambler  is  at  once  dignified  and  pathetic  I  cannot, 
however,  but  wish,  that  he  had  not  ended  it  with 
an  unnecessary  Greek  verse,  translated  also  into  an 
English  couplet.  It  is  too  much  like  the  conceit  of 
those  dramatic  poets,  who  used  to  conclude  each  act 
with  a  rhyme ;  and  the  expression  in  the  first  line 
of  his  couplet,  '  Celestial  powers,'  though  proper  in 
Pagan  poetry,  is  ill  suited  to  Christianity,  with  'a 
conformity '  to  which  he  consoles  himself.  How  much 
better  would  it  have  been  to  have  ended  with  the 
prose  sentence,  *  I  shall  never  envy  the  honours  which 
wit  and  learning  obtain  in  any  other  cause,  if  I  can  be 
numbered  among  the  writers  who  have  given  ardour 
to  virtue  and  confidence  to  truth.' 


1  I  shall  probably,  in  another  work,  maintain  the  merit  of  Addison's 
poetiy,  which  has  been  very  unjustly  depreciated. 

2  (In  the  GtHtUntan' i  Magaxint  for  Octobw  1752,  p.  468,  he  Is 
stj-led,  '  the  Rev.  Francis  Lewis,  of  Chiswick.'  Lord  Msuartney,  at 
my  request,  made  some  inquiry  concerning  him  at  that  place,  but  no 
intelligence  was  obtained. — M.] 

[This  chance  reference  to  the  life  of  Mr.  Lewis  powerfully  affected 
the  imagination  of  Carlyle. — A.  B.] 


iET.4i]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  183 

His  friend^  Dr.  Birch,  being  now  engnged  in  pre- 
paring an  edition  of  Ralegh's  smaller  pieces.  Dr. 
Johnson  wrote  the  following  letter  to  that  gentle- 
man: 

TO   DR.  BIRCH 

•  Gough  Square,  May  12,  1760. 
•  Sib, — Knowing  that  you  are  now  preparing  to  favour  the 
public  with  a  new  edition  of  Balegh's  miscellaneous  pieces,  I 
have  taken  the  liberty  to  send  you  a  manuscript,  which  fell 
by  chance  within  my  notice.  I  perceive  no  proofs  of  forgery 
in  my  examination  of  it ;  and  the  owner  tells  me  that,  as  he 
has  heard,  the  handwriting  is  Sir  Walter's.  If  you  should  find 
reason  to  conclude  it  genuine,  it  will  be  a  kindness  to  the 
owner,  a  blind  person, *  to  recommend  it  to  the  booksellers.— 
I  am,  sir,  your  most  humble  servant,  Sah.  Johrsok.' 

His  just  abhorrence  of  Milton's  political  notions  was 
ever  strong.  But  this  did  not  prevent  his  warm 
admiration  of  Milton's  great  poetical  merit,  to  which 
he  has  done  illustrious  justice,  beyond  all  who  have 
written  upon  the  subject.  And  this  year  he  not  only 
wrote  a  Prologue,  which  was  spoken  by  Mr.  Garrick 
before  the  acting  of  Comus  at  Drury  Lane  theatre,  for 
the  benefit  of  Milton's  grand-daughter,  but  took  a 
very  zealous  interest  in  the  success  of  the  charity. 
On  the  day  preceding  the  performance,  he  published 
the  following  letter  in  the  General  Advertiser,  ad- 
dressed to  the  printer  of  that  paper : 

'Sib, — That  a  certain  degree  of  reputation  is  acquired 
merely  by  approving  the  works  of  genius,  and  testifying  a 
regard  to  the  memory  of  authors,  is  a  truth  too  evident  to  be 
denied ;  and  therefore  to  ensure  a  participation  of  fame  with 
a  celebrated  poet,  many,  who  would,  perhaps,  have  contri< 


1  Mrs.  Williams  is  probably  the  person  meant. 


184         LIFE   OF   DR,    JOHNSON       [1751 


bnt«d  to  BUrr«  him  when   alive,   hftve   baaped 
{MgeanU  on  hi*  gmve.^ 

*  It  mtut,  indeod,  be  eonf  eeeed,  that  thi«  method  of  benomtng 
known  to  pocterity  with  honoar,  ia  peculiar  to  the  greats  or  at 
leaat  to  the  wealthy ;  but  an  opportunity  now  offer*  for  almoet 
every  iniliTidoal  to  teoure  the  praise  of  paying  a  juat  regard 
to  the  illustrious  dead,  united  with  the  pleasure  of  doing  good 
to  the  living.  To  assist  industrious  indigence,  struggling  with 
distre«  and  debilitated  by  age,  is  a  display  of  virtue,  and  an 
aeqnisition  of  happiness  and  honour. 

'Whoever,  then,  would  be  thought  capable  of  {deamtra  in 
reading  the  works  of  our  incomparable  Milton,  and  not  to 
destitute  of  gratitude  as  to  refuse  to  lay  out  a  trifle  in  rational 
and  elegant  eutortaimnent,  for  the  benefit  of  his  living  remains, 
for  the  exercise  of  their  own  virtue,  the  increase  of  their 
reputation,  and  the  pleasing  consciousness  of  doing  good, 
should  appear  at  Dniry  Lane  theatre  to-morrow,  April  6,  when 
Comui  will  be  performed  for  the  benefit  of  Mrs.  Elizabeth 
Foster,  grand-daughter  to  the  author,'  and  the  only  surviving 
branch  of  his  family. 

'If.B. — There  will  be  a  new  prologue  on  the  occasion, 
written  by  the  author  of  Irene,  and  spoken  by  Mr.  Garrick ; 
and  by  particular  desire,  there  will  be  added  to  the  masque  a 
dramatic  satire  called  Lethe,  in  which  Mr.  Garrick  will  pec^ 
form.' 

In  1751  we  are  to  consider  him  as  carrying  on  both 
his  Dictionary  and  Rambler.  But  he  also  wrote  The 
Life  of  Cheynel,  in  the  miscellany  called  The  Student ; 
and  the  Reverend  Dr.  Douglas  having  with  uncommon 
acuteness  clearly  detected  a  gross  forgery  and  impo- 
sition upon  the  public  by  William  Lauder,  a  Scotch 
schoolmaster,  who  had,  with  equal  impudence  and 
ingenuity,  represented  Milton  as  a  plagiary  from 
certain  modern  Latin  poets,  Johnson,  who  had  been 


1  [Alluding  probably  to  Mr.  Auditor  Benson.    See  the  Duncimd, 
B.  iv.— M.] 
*  [Mrs.  Elizabeth  Foster  died  May  9,  1754.— A.  Chalmsks.] 


.«T.42]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         186 

so  far  imposed  upon  as  to  furnish  a  Preface  and  Post- 
Bcript  to  his  work,  now  dictated  a  letter  for  Lauder, 
addressed  to  Dr.  Douglas,  acknowledging  his  fraud 
in  terms  of  suitable  contrition.  ^ 

This  extraordinary  attempt  of  Lauder  was  no  sudden 
effort.  He  had  brooded  over  it  for  many  years  :  and 
to  this  hour  it  is  uncertain  what  his  principal  motive 
was,  unless  it  were  a  vain  notion  of  his  superiority, 
in  being  able,  by  whatever  means,  to  deceive  mankind. 
To  effect  this,  he  produced  certain  passages  from 
Grotius,  Masenius,  and  others,  which  had  a  faint 
resemblance  to  some  parts  of  the  Paradise  Lost.  In 
these  he  interpolated  some  fragments  of  Hog's  Latin 
translation  of  that  poem,  alleging  that  the  mass  thus 
fabricated  was  the  archetype  from  which  Milton 
copied.  These  fabrications  he  published  from  time  to 
time  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine ;  and,  exulting  in 
his  fancied  success,  he  in  1750  ventured  to  collect 
them  into  a  pamphlet,  entitled  An  Essay  on  Milton' 9 


1  Lest  there  should  be  any  person,  at  any  future  period,  absurd 
enough  to  suspect  that  Johnson  was  a  partaker  in  Lauder's  fraud,  or 
had  any  knowledge  of  it,  when  he  assisted  him  with  his  masterly  pen, 
it  b  proper  here  to  quote  the  words  of  Dr.  Douglas,  now  Bishop  of 
Salisbur>-,  at  the  time  when  he  detected  the  imposition.  '  It  is  to  be 
hoped,  nay  it  is  expected,  that  the  elegant  and  nervous  writer,  whose 
juaicious  sentiments  and  inimitable  style  point  out  the  author  of 
Lauder's  Preface  and  Postscript,  will  no  longer  allow  one  to  plume 
himself  vaith  his/eaikers,  who  appeareth  so  little  to  deserve  assistance; 
an  assistance  which  I  am  persuaded  would  never  have  been  communi- 
cated, had  there  been  the  least  suspicion  of  those  facts  which  I  have 
been  the  instrument  of  conveying  to  the  world  in  these  sheets.' — Milton 
no  Pla^ary,  and  edit.,  p.  y8.  And  his  Lordship  has  been  pleased 
new  to  authorise  me  to  say,  in  the  strongest  manner,  that  there  is  no 
ground  whatever  for  any  unfavourable  reflection  against  Dr  Johnson, 
who  expressed  the  strongest  indignation  against  Lauder.  _ 

[Lauder  renewed  his  attempts  on  Milton's  character  in  1754,  in  a 

painphlet  entitled,  The  Grand  Impostor  detected;  or,  Milton  convicted 

f  Forgery  aeainst  King  Charles  I. ;  which  was  reviewed,  probably  by 

ohnson,  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  1754,  p.  97. — A.  Chalmers.] 

[Lauder  afterwards  went  to  Barbadoes,  where  he  died  very  miserably 
about  the  year  1771.— M.] 


186         LIFE   OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1751 

Ut9  and  Imitation  qf  tlie  Modem*  in  hi*  Paradite  LotL 
To  this  pamphlet  Johnson  wrote  a  Preface,  in  full 
persuasion  of  Lauder's  honesty,  and  a  Postscript 
recommending,  in  the  most  persuasive  terms,  a  sub- 
scription for  the  relief  of  a  grund-daughter  of  Milton, 
of  whom  he  thus  speaks :  '  It  is  yet  in  the  power  of  a 
great  people  to  reward  the  poet  whose  name  they 
boast,  and  from  their  alliance  to  whose  genius  they 
claim  some  kind  of  superiority  to  ever}'  other  natioa 
of  the  earth  ;  that  poet  whose  works  may  possibly  be 
read  when  every  other  monument  of  Britiish  greatness 
shall  be  obliterated  ;  to  reward  him,  not  with  pictures 
or  with  medals,  which,  if  he  sees,  he  sees  with  con- 
tempt, but  with  tokens  of  gratitude,  which  he  perhaps 
may  even  now  consider  as  not  unworthy  the  regard  of 
an  immortal  spirit'  Surely  this  is  inconsistent  with 
'enmity  towards  Milton,'  which  Sir  John  Hawkins 
imputes  to  Johnson  upon  this  occasion,  adding',  'I 
could  all  along  observe  that  Johnson  seemed  to  approve 
not  only  of  the  design,  but  of  the  argument ;  and 
seemed  to  exult  in  a  persuasion  that  the  reputation  of 
Milton  was  likely  to  suffer  by  this  discovery.  TTiat  he 
was  not  privy  to  the  imposture,  I  am  well  persuaded ; 
that  he  wished  well  to  the  argument  may  be  inferred 
from  the  Preface,  which  indubitably  was  written  by 
Johnson.'  Is  it  possible  for  any  man  of  clear  judg- 
ment to  suppose  that  Johnson,  who  so  nobly  praised 
the  poetical  excellence  of  Milton  in  a  Postscript  to 
this  very  '  discovery,'  as  he  then  supposed  it,  could  at 
the  same  time  exult  in  a  persuasion  that  the  great 
poet's  reputation  was  likely  to  suffer  by  it }  This  is 
an  inconsistency  of  which  Johnson  was  incapable  ;  nor 
can  anything  more  be  fairly  inferred  from  the  Preface, 


iET.42]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         187 

than  that  Johnson,  who  was  alike  distinguished  for 
ardent  curiosity  and  love  of  truth,  was  pleased  with  an 
investigation  by  which  both  were  gratified.  That  he 
was  actuated  by  these  motives,  and  certainly  by  no 
unworthy  desire  to  depreciate  our  great  epic  poet, 
is  evident  from  his  own  words ;  for  after  mentioning 
the  general  zeal  of  men  of  genius  and  literature,  '  to 
advance  the  honour,  and  distinguish  the  beauties  of 
Paradise  Lost,'  he  says:  'Among  the  inquiries  to  which 
this  ardour  of  criticism  has  naturally  given  occasion, 
none  is  more  obscure  in  itself,  or  more  worthy  of 
rational  curiosity,  than  a  retrospect  of  the  progress  of 
this  mighty  genius  in  the  construction  of  his  work  ;  a 
view  of  the  fabric  gradually  rising,  perhaps  from  small 
beginnings,  till  its  foundation  rests  in  the  centre,  and 
its  turrets  sparkle  in  the  skies ;  to  trace  back  the 
structure  through  all  its  varieties,  to  the  simplicity  of 
its  first  plan  ;  to  find  what  was  first  projected,  whence 
the  scheme  was  taken,  how  it  was  improved,  by  what 
assistance  it  was  executed,  and  from  what  stores  the 
materials  were  collected  ;  whether  its  founder  dug 
them  from  the  quarries  of  Nature,  or  demolished  other 
buildings  to  embellish  his  own.' ^  Is  this  the  language 
of  one  who  wished  to  blast  the  laurels  of  Milton  ? 

Though  Johnson's  circumstances  were  at  this  time 
far  from  being  easy,  his  humane  and  charitable  dis- 
position was  constantly  exerting  itself.  Mrs.  Anna 
Williams,  daughter  of  a  very  ingenious  Welsh  physi- 
cian, and  a  woman  of  more  than  ordinary  talents  and 
literature,  having  come  to  London  in  hopes  of  being 


^  ['Proposals  (written  evidently  by  Johnson)  for  printing  the 
Adamus  Exul  of  Grotius.  with  a  Translation  and  Notes  by  Wm. 
Lauder,  A.M.' — Gentleman  s  Magazint,  17471  vol.  xvii.  p.  404.— M.] 


188         LIFE   OF   DR    JOHNSON       [1753 

cured  of  a  cataract  in  both  her  eyes,  which  afterwards 
ended  in  total  blindness,  was  kindly  received  as  a  con- 
stant vittitor  at  his  house  while  Mrs.  Johnson  lived ; 
and,  after  her  death,  having  come  under  his  roof  in 
order  to  have  an  operation  upon  her  eyes  performed 
with  more  comfort  to  her  than  in  lodgings,  she  had  an 
apurtment  from  him  during  the  rest  of  her  life,  at  all 
times  when  he  had  a  house. 

In  1752  he  w:i8  almost  entirely  occupied  with  his 
Dictionary.  The  last  paper  of  his  Rambler  was  pub- 
lished March  2 '  this  year ;  after  which  there  was  a 
cessation  for  some  time  of  any  exertion  of  his  talents 
as  an  essayist  But,  in  the  same  year.  Dr.  Hawkes- 
worth,  who  was  his  warm  admirer,  and  a  studious 
imitator  of  his  style,  and  then  lived  in  great  intimacy 
with  him,  began  a  periodical  paper  entitled  the 
Adventurer,  in  connection  with  other  gentlemen,  one 
of  whom  was  Johnson's  much  loved  friend.  Dr. 
Batburst;  and  without  doubt,  they  received  many 
valuable  hints  from  his  conversation,  most  of  his 
friends  having  been  so  assisted  in  the  course  of  their 
works. 

That  there  should  be  a  suspension  of  his  literary 
labours  during  a  part  of  the  year  1752  will  not  seem 
strange  when  it  is  considered  that  soon  after  closing 

1  [Here  the  author's  memory  failed  him,  for,  according  to  the 
account  ^ven  in  a  former  page  (see  p.  i6o),  we  should  here  read  March 
17  ;  but  in  truth,  as  has  been  already  observed,  the  M ami/er  c\oscd  on 
Saturday  the /burfeentA  of  March  ;  at  which  time  Mrs.  Johnson  was 
near  her  end,  for  she  died  on  the  following  Tuesday,  March  17.  Had 
the  concluding  paper  of  that  work  been  written  on  the  day  of  her 
death,  it  would  have  been  still  more  extraordinary  than  it  is,  consider- 
ing the  extreme  grief  into  which  the  author  was  plunged  by  that 
event.  The  melancholy  cast  of  that  concluding  essay  is  sufficiently 
accounted  for  by  the  situation  of  Mrs.  Johnson  at  the  time  it  was 
written ;  and  her  death  three  days  afterwards  put  ait  end  to  the 
Paper.— M.] 


;et.  43]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         189 

his  Rambler,  he  suffered  a  loss  which,  there  can  be  no 
doubt,  affected  him  with  the  deepest  distress.  For 
on  the  17th  of  March,  o.s.,  his  wife  died.  Why  Sir 
John  Hawkins  should  unwarrantably  take  upon  him 
even  to  suppose  that  Johnson's  fondness  for  her  was 
dissembled  (meaning  simulated  or  assumed),  and  to 
assert  that  if  it  was  not  the  case,  'it  was  a  lesson 
he  had  learned  by  rote,'  I  cannot  conceive ;  unless  it 
proceeded  from  a  want  of  similar  feelings  in  his  own 
bre:isL  To  argue  from  her  being  much  older  than 
Johnson,  or  any  other  circumstances,  that  he  could 
not  really  love  her,  is  absurd  ;  for  love  is  not  a  subject 
of  reasoning  but  of  feeling,  and  therefore  there  are 
no  common  principles  upon  which  one  can  persuade 
another  concerning  it  Every  man  feels  for  himself, 
and  knows  how  he  is  affected  by  particular  qualities 
in  the  person  he  admires,  the  impressions  of  which 
are  too  minute  and  delicate  to  be  substantiated  in 
language. 

The  following  very  solemn  and  affecting  prayer  was 
found  after  Dr.  Johnson's  decease,  by  his  servant,  Mr. 
Francis  Barber,  who  delivered  it  to  my  worthy  friend 
the  Reverend  Mr.  Strahan,  Vicar  of  Islington,  who  at 
my  earnest  request  has  obligingly  favoured  me  with  a 
copy  of  it,  which  he  and  I  compared  with  the  original 
I  present  it  to  the  world  as  an  undoubted  proof  of  a 
circumstance  in  the  character  of  my  illustrious  friend, 
which,  though  some  whose  hard  minds  I  never  shall 
envy  may  attack  as  superstitious,  will,  I  am  sure, 
endear  him  more  to  numbers  of  good  men.  I  have  an 
additional,  and  that  a  personal,  motive  for  presenting 
it,  because  it  sanctions  what  I  myself  have  always 
maintained  and  am  fond  to  indulge  : 


190         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1752 

*Apnl  86,  175S,  heimg  (ifier  IS  at  night  o/tkeOth. 
*  O  Lord !  Governor  of  h««Ten  »nd  earth,  in  wboM  huidfl 
are  embodied  and  departed  Spirit*,  if  thou  bast  ordained  the 
Soul*  of  the  Dead  to  miniater  to  the  Living,  and  appointed 
my  departed  wife  to  have  oare  of  me,  grant  that  I  may  enjoy 
the  good  effect*  of  her  attention  and  ministration,  whetlier 
exercised  by  appearance,  impulses,  dreams,  or  in  any  other 
manner  agreeable  to  thy  Government.  Forgive  my  pcesomp- 
tion,  enlighten  my  ignorance,  and  however  meaner  agents  are 
employed,  grant  me  the  blessed  influences  of  thy  Holy  Sptrtt, 
throogh  Jesos  Christ  our  Lord.    Amen.' 

What  actually  followed  upon  this  most  interesting 
piece  of  devotion  by  Johnson,  we  are  not  informed ; 
but  I,  whom  it  has  pleased  God  to  afflict  in  a  similar 
manner  to  that  which  occasioned  it,  have  certain  ex- 
perience of  benignant  communication  by  dreama. 

That  his  love  for  his  wife  was  of  the  most  ardent 
kind,  and  during  the  long  period  of  fifty  years  was 
unimpaired  by  the  lapse  of  time,  is  evident  from 
various  passages  in  the  series  of  his  Prayers  and 
MeditatioTU,  published  by  the  Reverend  Mr.  Strahan, 
as  well  as  from  other  memorials,  two  of  which  I 
select,  as  strongly  marking  the  tenderness  and  sensi- 
bility of  his  mind  : 

'March  28,  1753.— I  kept  this  day  as  the  anniversary  of  my 
Tetty's  death,  with  prayer  and  tears  in  the  morning.  In  the 
evening  I  prayed  for  her  conditionally,  if  it  were  lawfuL' 

•April  23,  1753.— I  know  not  whether  I  do  not  too  much 
indulge  the  vam  longings  of  affection;  but  I  hope  thej  in> 
tenerate  my  heart,  and  that  when  I  die  like  my  Tetty,  this 
affection  will  be  acknowledged  in  a  happy  interview,  and  that 
in  the  meantime  I  am  incited  by  it  to  piety.  I  will,  however, 
not  deviate  too  much  from  common  and  received  methods  of 
devotion. 

Her  wedding-ring,  when  she  became  his  wife,  was. 


JET.  43]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  191 

after  her  deaths  presen-ed  by  him,  as  long  as  he  lived, 
with  an  affectionate  care,  in  a  little  round  wooden  box, 
in  the  inside  of  which  he  pasted  a  slip  of  paper,  thus 
inscribed  by  him  in  fair  characters,  as  follows  : 

•Eheu! 

Eliz.  Johnson 

NupU  JuL  9'  1736, 

Mortua,  eheu  ! 

Mart.  If  1752.' 

After  his  death,  Mr.  Francis  Barber,  his  faithful 
servant  and  residuary  legatee,  offered  this  memorial 
of  tenderness  to  Mrs.  Lucy  Porter,  Mrs.  Johnson's 
daughter ;  but  she  having  declined  to  accept  of  it,^ 
he  had  it  enamelled  as  a  mourning-ring  for  his  old 
master,  and  presented  it  to  his  wife,  Mrs.  Barber,  who 
DOW  has  it. 

The  state  of  mind  in  which  a  man  must  be  upon  the 
death  of  a  woman  whom  he  sincerely  loves  had  been 
in  his  contemplation  many  years  before.  In  his  Irene 
we  find  the  following  fervent  and  tender  speech  of 
Demetrius,  addressed  to  his  Aspasia  : 

'  From  those  bright  regions  of  eternal  day, 
Where  now  thou  shin'st  amongst  thy  fellow-saints, 
Array'd  in  purer  light,  look  down  on  me  ! 
In  pleasing  visions  and  assuasive  dreams, 
O !  soothe  my  soul,  and  teach  me  how  to  lose  thee.' 

I  have,  indeed,  been  told  by  Mrs.  Desmoulins,  who 
before  her  marriage  lived  for  some  time  with  Mrs. 
Johnson  at  Hampstead,  that  she  indulged  herself  in 


1  [She  is  said  to  have  been  angry  because  her  name  was  not  men- 
tioned in  Johnson's  will.  Yet  when  she  came  to  die  it  was  noticeable 
that  though  her  will  was  made  in  Johnson's  lifetime,  he  was  noC 
mentioned  in  it.     I  have  known  seveial  Lucy  Porters. — A.  B.  ] 


102         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1752 

country  air  aud  uice  living,  at  an  unsuitable  expense, 
while  her  husband  was  drudging  in  the  smoke  of 
London,  and  that  she  by  no  means  treated  him  with 
that  complacency  which  is  the  most  engaging  quality 
in  a  wife.  But  all  this  is  perfectly  compatible  with 
his  fondness  for  her,  especially  when  it  is  remembered 
that  he  had  a  high  opinion  of  her  understanding,  and 
that  the  impressions  which  her  beauty,  real  or  imagi- 
nary, had  originally  made  upon  his  fancy,  being  con- 
tinued by  habit,  had  not  been  effaced,  though  she 
herself  was  doubtless  much  altered  for  the  worse.  The 
dreadful  shock  of  separation  took  place  in  the  night ; 
and  he  immediately  despatched  a  letter  to  his  friend, 
the  Reverend  Dr.  Taylor,  which,  as  Taylor  told  me, 
expressed  grief  in  the  strongest  manner  he  had  ever 
read ;  so  that  it  is  much  to  be  r^retted  it  has  not  been 
preserved.^  The  letter  was  brought  to  Dr.  Taylor,  at 
his  house  in  the  Cloysters,  Westminster,  about  three 
in  the  morning  ;  and  as  it  signified  an  earnest  desire 
to  see  him,  he  got  up,  and  went  to  Johnson  as  soon 
as  he  was  dressed,  and  found  him  in  tears  and  in 
extreme  agitation.  After  being  a  little  while  together, 
Johnson  requested  him  to  join  with  him  in  prayer. 
He  then  prayed  extempore,  as  did  Dr.  Taylor ;  and 
thus  by  means  of  that  piety  which  was  ever  his  primary 
object,  his  troubled  mind  was  in  some  degree  soothed 
and  composed. 

The  next  day  he  wrote  as  follows : 


1  [In  the  Gcntltman's  Ma^axine  for  Febraary  1794  (p.  100)  wat 
printed  a  letter  pretending  to  be  that  written  by  Johnson  on  the  death 
of  his  wife.  But  it  is  merely  a  transcript  of  the  4tst  number  of  the 
Idler.  A  fictitious  date,  March  17,  175T,  o.s.,  was  added  by  some 
person,  previously  to  this  paper's  being  sent  to  the  publisher  of  that 
miscellany,  to  give  a  colour  to  this  deception. — M.] 


iET.  43]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  193 

TO   THE    REV.   DR.   TAYLOR 

'Dexb  Sib, — Let  me  have  your  company  and  instruction. 
Do  not  live  away  from  me.    My  distress  is  gieat. 

'Pray  desire  Mrs.  Taylor  to  inform  me  what  mourning  I 
should  buy  for  my  mother  and  Miss  Porter,  and  bring  a  note 
in  writing  with  you. 

'Remember  me  in  your  prayers,  for  vain  is  the  help  of 
man.— I  am,  dear  sir,  etc..  Sax.  Johnson. 

•ifon*18,1752.' 

That  his  sufferings  upon  the  death  of  his  wife  were 
severe,  beyond  what  are  commonly  endured,  I  have 
no  doubt,  from  the  information  of  many  who  were 
then  about  him,  to  none  of  whom  I  give  more  credit 
than  to  Mr.  Francis  Barber,  his  faithful  negro  ser- 
vant,* who  came  into  his  family  about  a  fortnight  after 
the  dismal  event.  These  sufferings  were  aggravated 
by  the  melancholy  inherent  in  his  constitution  ;  and 
although  he  probably  was  not  oftener  in  the  wrong 
than  she  was,  in  the  little  disagreements  which  some- 
times troubled  his  married  state,  during  which,  he 
owned  to  me,  that  the  gloomy  irritability  of  his  exist- 
ence was  more  painful  to  him  than  ever,  he  might 
very  naturally,  after  her  death,  be  tenderly  disposed 
to  charge  himself  with  slight  omissions  and  offences^ 


1  Francis  Barber  was  born  in  Jamaica,  and  was  brought  to  England 
in  X750  by  Colonel  Bathurst,  father  of  Johnson's  very  intimate  friend. 
Dr.  Bathurst.  He  was  sent  for  some  time  to  the  Reverend  Mr._  Jack- 
son's school  at  Barton,  in  Yorkshire,  The  Colonel,  by  his  wiU,  left 
him  his  freedom,  and  Dr.  Bathurst  was_  willing  that  he  should  enter 
into  Johnson's  service,  in  which  he  continued  from  1753  till  Johnson's 
death,  with  the  exception  of  two  inter^'als,  in  one  of  which,  upon  some 
difference  with  his  master,  he  went  and  served  an  apothecary  in  Cheap- 
side,  but  still  visited  Dr.  Johnson  occasionally  ;  in  another,  he  took  a 
fancy  to  go  to  sea.  Part  of  the  time,  indeed,  he  was,  bythe  kindness 
of  his  master,  at  a  school  in  Northamptonshire,  that  he  might  have  the 
adN'antage  of  some  learning.  So  early  and  so  lasting  a  coimectioa  was 
there  between  Dr.  Johnson  and  this  humble  friend. 

VOL.  I.  N 


104         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1752 

the  aenae  of  which  would  fpve  him  much  unoaiinwi.* 
Accordingly  we  find  about  a  year  after  her  deceaae 
that  he  thus  addressed  the  Supreme  Being:  'O 
Lord,  who  givest  the  grace  of  repentance,  and  heareat 
the  prayers  of  the  penitent,  grant  that  by  true  oon- 
tritiou  I  may  obtain  forgiveness  of  all  the  aint  com- 
mitted, and  of  all  duties  neglected,  in  my  union  with 
the  wife  whom  thou  hast  taken  from  me  ;  for  the 
n^lect  of  joint  devotion,  patient  exhortation,  and 
mild  instruction.''  The  kindness  of  his  heart,  not- 
withstanding the  impetuosity  of  his  temper,  is  well 
known  to  his  friends  ;  and  I  cannot  trace  the  smallest 
foundation  for  tlie  following  dark  and  uncharitable 
assertion  by  Sir  John  Hawkins:  'The  apparition  of 
his  departed  wife  was  altogether  of  the  terrific  kind, 
and  hardly  afforded  him  a  hope  that  she  was  in  a  state 
of  happiness.' '  That  he,  in  conformity  with  the  opinion 
of  many  of  the  most  able,  learned,  and  pious  Christiana 
in  all  ages,  supposed  that  there  was  a  middle  state  after 
death,  previous  to  the  time  at  which  departed  souls  are 
finally  received  to  eternal  felicity,  appears,  I  think, 
unquestionably  from  his  devotions :  *  '  And,  O  Lord, 
so  far  as  it  may  be  lawful  in  me,  I  commend  to  thy 
fatherly  goodness  the  soul  of  my  departed  wife ;  be- 
seeching thee  to  grant  her  whatever  is  best  in  her  pre- 
terit state,  and  finally  to  receive  her  to  eternal  happiness. ' ' 


1  (See  his  beautiful  and  afTecting  RamiUr,  Na  54. — M.] 
9  Prayers  and  Meditations. 

*  Hawkins's  Life  of  Johnson,  p.  21& 

*  [It  does  not  appesur  that  Johnson  was  fully  perstiaded  that  there 
was  a  middle  state ;  his  prayers  being  only  conditiotuU,  Le.  if  such  a 
state  existed. — M.] 

[The  Non-Jurors  held  it  law-ful  to  pray  for  the  dead,  and  from  them 
Johnson  acquired  his  practice. — A.  B.] 
'  Prayers  and  Meaitations, 


^T.  43]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON         196 

But  this  state  has  not  been  looked  upon  with  horror, 
but  only  as  less  gracious. 

He  deposited  the  remains  of  Mrs.  Johnson  in  the 
church  of  Bromley  in  Kent,^  to  which  he  was  probably 
led  by  tne  residence  of  his  friend  Hawkesworth  at 
that  place.  Tlie  funeral  sermon  which  he  composed 
for  her,  which  was  never  preached,  but  having  been 
given  to  Dr.  Taylor,  has  been  published  since  his 
death,  is  a  performance  of  uncommon  excellence,  and 
fuU  of  rational  and  pious  comfort  to  such  as  are 
depressed  by  that  severe  affliction  which  Johnson  felt 
when  he  wrote  it.  When  it  is  considered  that  it  was 
written  in  such  an  agitation  of  mind,  and  in  the  short 
interval  between  her  death  and  bujial^  it  cannot  be 
read  without  wonder. 

From  Mr.  Francis  Barber  I  have  had  the  following 
authentic  and  artless  account  of  the  situation  in  which 
he  found  him  recently  after  his  wife's  death  :  '  He  was 
in  great  affliction.  Mrs.  Williams  was  then  living  in 
his  house,  which  was  in  Gough  Square.  He  was  busy 
with  the  Dictionary.  Mr.  Shiels,  and  some  others  of 
the  gentlemen  who  had  formerly  written  for  him,  used 


t  [A  few  months  before  bis  death,  Johnson  honoured  her  memory  by 
the  following  epitaph,  which  was  inscribed  on  her  tombstone  in  the 
church  of  Bromley :  _ 

Uic  conduntur  reliquiae 

ELIZABETHit; 

Antiqua  Jarvisiorum  gente, 

Peatlingae,  apud  Leicestrienses,  prtse 

Formosa:,  cultz,  ingeniosse,  pis  ; 

Uxoris,  primis  nuptiis,  Henkici  Porter, 

Secundis,  Samuelis  Johnson  : 

Qui  multum  amatam,  diuque  defletam 

Hoc  lapide  contexit. 

Obiit  Londini.  Men.se  Mart. 

A.D.  MDCCLII.       — M.] 

(On  the  actual  tombstone  the  date  of  death  is  wrongly  stated  to  be 
I753--A.  B.l 


196         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1752 

to  come  about  him.  He  had  then  little  for  himself, 
but  frequently  gent  money  to  Mr.  Shiels  when  in  di»- 
trem.  The  friends  who  visited  him  at  that  time  were 
chiefly  Dr.  Bathurst,'  and  Mr.  Diamond,  aj|  apothe- 
cary in  Cork  Street,  Burlington  Gardens,  with  whom 
he  and  Mrs.  Williams  generally  dined  every  Sunday. 
There  was  a  talk  of  his  going  to  Iceland  with  him, 
which  would  probably  have  happened,  had  he  lived. 
There  was  also  Mr.  Cave,  Dr.  Hawkesworth,  Mr. 
Ryland,  merchant  on  Tower  Hill,  Mrs.  Masters,  the 
poetess,  who  lived  with  Mr.  Cave,  Mrs.  Carter,  and 
sometimes  Mrs.  Macaulay ;  also  Mrs.  Gardiner,  wife 
of  a  tallow-chandler  on  Snow  Hill,  not  in  the  learned 
way,  but  a  worthy  good  woman  ;  Mr.  (now  Sir  Joshua) 
Reynolds ;  Mr.  Miller,  Mr.  Dodsley,  Mr.  Bouquet, 
Mr.  Payne,  of  Paternoster  Row,  booksellers ;  Mr. 
Strahan,  the  printer ;  the  Earl  of  Orrery,  Lord  South- 
well, Mr.  Garrick.' 

Many  are,  no  doubt,  omitted  in  this  catalogue  of 
his  friends,  and,  in  particular,  his  humble  friend  Mr. 
Robert  Levet,  an  obscure  practiser  in  physic  amongst 
the  lower  people,  his  fees  being  sometimes  very  small 
sums,  sometimes  whatever  pronsions  his  patients 
could  afford  him  ;  but  of  such  extensive  practice  in 
that  way,  that  Mrs.  Williams  has  told  me,  his  walk 
was  from  Iloundsditch  to  Marybone.  It  appears  from 
Johnson's  diary,  that  their  acquaintance  commenced 

Dr.  Bathurst,  though  a  physician  of  no  inconuderable  merit,  had 
not  the  good  fortune  to  get  much  practice  in  London.  He  was,  tnere' 
fore,  wiUtnE  to  accept  of  emplo>Tnent  abroad,  and,  to  the  reeret  of  all 
who  knew  nim,  fell  a  sacrifice  to  the  destructive  climate,  in  the  expedi- 
tion against  the  Ha\-annab.  Mr.  Langton  recollects  the  following 
passage  in_  a  letter  from  Dr.  Johnson  to  Mr._  Beauclerk :  '  The 
Havannah  is  taken ; — a  conquest  too  dearly  obtained  ;  for  Bathurst 
died  before  it. 

Vix  Priamus  tanti  totaqne  Troja  fult. 


.ET.  43]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  197 

about  the  year  1746 ;  and  such  was  Johnson's  predilec- 
tion for  him,  and  fanciful  estimation  of  his  moderate 
abilities,  that  I  have  heard  him  say  he  should  not  be 
satisfied  ^ough  attended  by  all  the  College  of  Phjrsi- 
cians,  unless  he  had  Mr.  Levet  with  him.  Ever  since 
I  was  acquainted  with  Dr.  Johnson,  and  many  years 
before,  as  I  have  been  assured  by  those  who  knew 
him  earlier,  Mr.  Levet  had  an  apartment  in  his  house, 
or  his  chambers,  and  waited  upon  him  every  morning, 
through  the  whole  course  of  his  late  and  tedious 
breakfast.  He  was  of  a  strange,  grotesque  appearance, 
stiff  and  formal  in  his  manner,  and  seldom  said  a  word 
while  any  company  was  present.^ 

The  circle  of  his  friends,  indeed,  at  this  time,  was  ex- 
tensive and  varied,  far  beyond  what  has  been  generally 
imagined.  To  trace  his  acquaintance  with  each  par- 
ticular person,  if  it  could  be  done,  would  be  a  task  of 
which  the  labour  would  not  be  repaid  by  the  advan- 
tage. But  exceptions  are  to  be  made ;  one  of  which 
must  be  a  friend  so  eminent  as  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds, 
who  was  truly  his  duke  decus,  and  with  whom  he 
maintained  an  uninterrupted  intimacy  to  the  last  hour 
*  of  his  life.  When  Johnson  lived  in  Castle  Street, 
Cavendish  Square,  he  used  frequently  to  visit  two 
ladies  who  lived  opposite  to  him.  Miss  Cotterells, 
daughters  of  Admiral  CotterelL  Reynolds  used  also 
to  visit  there,  and  thus  they  met  Mr.  Reynolds,  as  I 
have  observed  above,  had,  from  the  first  reading  of  his 

1  [A  more  particular  account  of  this  person  may  b«  found  in  the 
GeniUman's  Magazine  for  February  1785.  It  originally  appeared  in 
the  St.  James's  cTironicU,  and,  1  believe,  was  written  by  the  late  George 
Stecvens,  Esq. — M.] 

['Levet  J  madam,  is  a  brutal  fellow,  but  I  have  a  good  regard  for 
him,  for  his  brutality  is  in  his  manners,  not  in  his  mind.' — Madame 
D'Arblay's  ZJ/ary,  i.  115. — A.  B.] 


198  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1752 

L{fe  of  Savage,  conceived  a  very  high  adminiUon  of 
Johnson's  powers  of  writing.  His  conversation  no 
less  delighted  him  ;  and  he  cultivated  his  acquaintance 
with  the  laudable  zeal  of  one  who  was  ambitious  of 
general  improvement  Sir  Joshua,  indeed,  was  lucky 
enough  at  their  very  first  meeting  to  make  a  remark, 
which  was  so  much  above  the  commonplace  style  of 
conversation,  that  Johnson  at  once  perceived  that 
Reynolds  had  the  habit  of  thinking  for  himself.  The 
ladies  were  regretting  the  death  of  a  friend,  to  whom 
they  owed  great  obligations ;  upon  which  Rcjniolds 
observed,  *  You  have,  however,  the  comfort  of  being 
relieved  from  a  burden  of  gratitude.'  They  were 
shocked  a  little  at  this  alleviating  suggestion,  as  too 
selfish ;  but  Johnson  defended  it  in  his  clear  and 
forcible  manner,  and  was  much  pleased  with  the  mind, 
the  fair  view  of  human  nature  which  it  exhibited,  like 
some  of  the  reflections  of  Rochefoucault.  The  conse- 
quence was,  that  he  went  home  with  Rejmolds  and 
supped  with  him. 

Sir  Joshua  told  me  a  pleasant  characteristical  anec- 
dote of  Johnson  about  the  time  of  their  first  acquaint- 
ance. When  they  were  one  evening  together  at  the 
Miss  Cotterells',  the  then  Duchess  of  Argyle  and 
another  lady  of  high  rank  came  in.  Johnson  think- 
ing that  the  Miss  Cotterells  were  too  much  engrossed 
by  them,  and  that  he  and  his  friend  were  neglected, 
as  low  company  of  whom  they  were  somewhat 
ashamed,  grew  ang^y ;  and  resolving  to  shock  their 
supposed  pride  by  making  their  great  visitors  imagine 
that  his  friend  and  he  were  low  indeed,  he  addressed 
himself  in  a  loud  tone  to  Mr.  Reynolds,  saying,  '  How 
much  do  you  think  you  and  I  could  get  in  a  week  if 


^T.  43l     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON          199 

we  were  to  work  as  hard  as  we  could?' — as  if  they 
had  been  common  mechanics. 

His  acquaintance  with  Bennet  Langton,  Esq.^  of 
Langton,  in  Lincolnshire,  another  much-valued  friend, 
commenced  soon  after  the  conclusion  of  his  Rambler ; 
which  that  gentleman,  then  a  youth,  had  read  with  so 
much  admiration,  that  he  came  to  London  chiefly  with 
a  view  of  endeavouring  to  be  introduced  to  its  author. 
By  a  fortunate  chance  he  happened  to  take  lodgings 
in  a  house  where  Mr.  Levet  frequently  visited ;  and 
having  mentioned  his  wish  to  his  landlady,  she  intro- 
duced him  to  Mr.  Levet,  who  readily  obtained  John- 
son's permission  to  bring  Mr.  Langton  to  him ;  as, 
indeed,  Johnson,  during  the  whole  course  of  his  life, 
had  no  shyness,  real  or  affected,  but  was  easy  of  access 
to  all  who  were  properly  recommended,  and  even 
wished  to  see  numbers  at  his  levee,  as  his  morning 
circle  of  company  might,  with  strict  propriety,  be 
called.  Mr.  Langton  was  exceedingly  surprised  when 
the  sage  first  appeared.  He  had  not  received  the 
smallest  intimation  of  his  figure,  dress,  or  manner. 
From  perusing  his  writings,  he  fancied  he  should  see 
a  decent,  well-dressed,  in  short,  a  remarkably  decor- 
ous philosopher.  Instead  of  which,  down  from  his 
bed-chamber  about  noon  came,  as  newly  risen,  a  huge 
uncouth  figure,  with  a  little  dark  wig  which  scarcely 
covered  his  head,  and  his  clothes  hanging  loose  about 
him.  But  his  conversation  was  so  rich,  so  animated, 
and  so  forcible,  and  his  religious  and  political  notions 
so  congenial  with  those  in  which  Langton  had  been 
educated,  that  he  conceived  for  him  that  veneration 
and  attachment  which  he  ever  preserved.  Johnson 
was  not  the  less  ready  to  love  Mr.  Langton,  for  his 


200         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1752 

being  of  a  very  ancient  family ;  for  I  have  heard  him 
•ay,  with  pleasure,  '  Langton,  sir,  haa  a  grant  of  free 
warren  from  Henry  the  Second  ;  and  Cardinal  Stephen 
Langton,  in  King  John's  reign,  was  of  this  family.' 

Mr.  Langton  afterwards  went  to  pursue  his  studies 
at  Trinity  College,  Oxford,  where  he  formed  au 
acquaintance  with  his  fellow-student,  Mr.  Topham 
Beauclerk  ;  who,  though  their  opinions  and  mode*  of 
life  were  so  different,  that  it  seemed  utterly  improb- 
able  that  they  should  at  all  agree,  had  so  ardent  a  love 
of  literature,  so  acute  an  understanding,  such  elegance 
of  manners,  and  so  well  discerned  the  excellent  quali- 
ties of  Mr.  Langton,  a  gentleman  eminent  not  only 
for  worth  and  learning,  but  fur  an  inexhaustible  fund 
of  entertaining  conversation,  that  they  became  inti- 
mate friends. 

Johnson,  soon  after  this  acquaintance  b^^,  passed 
a  considerable  time  at  Oxford.  He  at  first  thought  it 
strange  that  Langton  should  associate  so  much  with 
one  who  had  the  character  of  being  loose,  both  in  his 
principles  and  practice :  but,  by  degrees,  he  himself 
was  fascinated.  Mr.  Beauclerk's  being  of  the  St. 
Alban's  family,  and  having,  in  some  particulars,  a 
resemblance  to  Charles  the  Second,  contributed  in 
Johnson's  imagination  to  throw  a  lustre  upon  his 
other  qualities  ;  and  in  a  short  time,  the  moral,  pious 
Johnson,  and  the  gay,  dissipated  Beauclerk,  were 
companions.  *  \Vhat  a  coalition  !  (said  Garrick,  when 
he  heard  of  this)  I  shall  have  my  old  friend  to  bail 
out  of  the  Round-house.'  But  I  can  bear  testimony 
that  it  was  a  very  agreeable  association.  Beauclerk 
was  too  polite,  and  valued  learning  and  wit  too  much, 
to  offend  Johnson  by  sallies  of  infidelity  or  licentious- 


/ET.  43]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         201 

nees ;  and  Johnson  delighted  in  the  good  qualities  of 
Beauclerk,  and  hoped  to  correct  the  evil.  Innumer- 
able were  the  scenes  in  which  Johnson  was  amused  by 
these  young  men.  Beauclerk  could  take  more  liberty 
with  him  than  anybody  with  whom  I  ever  saw  him  ; 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  Beauclerk  was  not  spared  by 
his  respectable  companion,  when  reproof  was  proper. 
Beauclerk  had  such  a  propensity  to  satire,  that  at  one 
time  Johnson  said  to  him,  *  You  never  open  your 
mouth  but  with  intention  to  give  pain  ;  and  you  have 
often  given  me  pain,  not  from  the  power  of  what  you 
said,  but  from  seeing  your  intention.'  At  another 
time  applying  to  him,  with  a  slight  alteration,  a  line 
of  Pope,  he  said, 

•  "Thy  love  of  folly,  and  thy  soom  of  fools " 

Everything  thou  dost  shows  the  one,  and  everything 
thou  say'st  the  other. '  At  another  time  he  said  to  him, 
*Thy  body  is  all  vice,  and  thy  mind  all  virtue.'  Beau- 
clerk not  seeming  to  relish  the  compliment,  Johnson 
said,  'Nay,  sir,  Alexander  the  Great,  marching  in 
triumph  into  Babylon,  could  not  have  desired  to  have 
hud  more  said  to  him.' 

Johnson  was  some  time  with  Beauclerk  at  his  house 
at  Windsor,  where  he  was  entertained  with  experi- 
ments in  natural  philosophy.  One  Sunday,  when  the 
weather  was  very  fine,  Beauclerk  enticed  him,  in- 
sensibly, to  saunter  about  all  the  morning.  They 
went  into  a  churchyard,  in  the  time  of  divine  service, 
and  Johnson  laid  himself  down  at  his  ease  upon  one  of 
the  tombstones.  'Now,  sir  (said  Beauclerk),  you  are 
like  Hogarth's  Idle  Apprentice.'  When  Johnson  got 
his  pension,  Beauclerk  said  to  him,  in  the  humorous 


202         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1753 

phrase  of  Falitaff,  '  I  hope  you  '11  now  purge  and  live 
cleanly,  like  a  gentleman.' 

One  night  when  Beauclerk  and  Langton  had  supped 
at  a  tavern  in  London,  and  sat  till  about  three  in  the 
morning,  it  came  into  their  heads  to  go  and  knock  up 
Johnson,  and  see  if  they  could  prevail  on  him  to  join 
them  in  a  ramble.  They  rapped  violently  at  the  doors 
of  his  chambers  in  the  Temple,  till  at  last  he  appeared 
in  his  shirt,  with  his  little  black  wig  on  the  top  of  his 
head  instead  of  a  nightcap,  and  a  poker  in  his  hand, 
imagining,  probably,  that  some  ruffians  were  coming 
to  attack  him.  When  he  discovered  who  they  were, 
and  was  told  their  errand,  he  smiled,  and  with  great 
good  humour  agreed  to  their  proposal :  '  What,  is  it 
you,  you  dogs  !  I  'U  have  a  frisk  with  you.'  He  was 
soon  dressed,  and  they  sallied  forth  together  into 
Covent  Garden,  where  the  green-grocers  and  fruiterers 
were  beginning  to  arrange  their  hampers,  just  come  in 
from  the  country.  Johnson  made  some  attempts  to 
help  them  :  but  the  honest  gardeners  stared  so  at  his 
figure  and  manner,  and  odd  interference,  that  he  soon 
saw  his  services  were  not  relished.  They  then  repaired 
to  one  of  the  neighbouring  taverns,  and  made  a  bowl 
of  that  liquor  called  Bishop,  which  Johnson  had  always 
liked  ;  while  in  joyous  contempt  of  sleep,  from  which 
he  had  been  roused,  he  repeated  the  festive  lines, 

*  Short,  O  short  then  be  thy  reign. 
And  give  us  to  the  world  again.'  ^ 


1  Mr.  Langton  has  recollected,  or  Dr.  Johnson  repeated,  the  passage 
wrong.  The  lines  are  in  Lord  Lansdowne's  *  Drinking  Song  to  Sleep,' 
and  run  thus : 

'  Short,  very  short  be  then  thy  rei^. 
For  I  'm  in  haste  to  laugh  and  drink  again.' 


^T.  44]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  203 

They  did  not  stay  long,  but  walked  down  to  the 
Thames,  took  a  boat  and  rowed  to  Billingsgate. 
Beauclerk  and  Johnson  were  so  well  pleased  with  their 
amusement,  that  they  resolved  to  persevere  in  dissi- 
pation for  the  rest  of  the  day  :  but  Langton  deserted 
them,  being  engaged  to  breakfast  with  some  young 
ladies.  Johnson  scolded  him  for  '  leaving  his  social 
friends,  to  go  and  sit  with  a  set  of  wretched  un-idea'd 
girls.'  Garrick  being  told  of  this  ramble,  said  to  him 
smartly,  *  I  heard  of  your  frolic  t'other  night.  You  '11 
be  in  the  Chronicle.'  Upon  which  Johnson  afterwards 
observed,  '  He  durst  not  do  such  a  thing.  His  wife 
would  not  let  him  ! ' 

He  entered  upon  this  year  1753  with  his  usual  piety, 
as  appears  from  the  following  prayer,  which  I  tran- 
scribed from  that  part  of  his  diary  which  he  burnt  a 
few  days  before  his  death  : 

•Jan.  1,  1753,  h.b.,  which  I  shall  use  for  the  future. 

'Almighty  God,  who  has  continued  my  life  to  this  day, 
grant  that,  by  the  assistance  of  thy  Holy  Spirit,  I  may  im- 
|)rove  the  time  which  thou  shalt  gr&nt  me,  to  my  eternal 
f^vation.  Make  me  to  remember,  to  thy  glory,  thy  judg- 
ments and  thy  mercies.  Make  me  to  consider  the  loss  of  my 
wife,  whom  thou  hast  taken  from  me,  that  it  may  dispose  me, 
by  thy  grace,  to  lead  the  residue  of  my  life  in  thy  fear. 
Grant  this,  O  Lord,  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake.    Amen. 

He  now  relieved  the  drudgery  of  his  Dictionary,  and 
the  melancholy  of  his  grief,  by  taking  an  active  part 
in  the  composition  of  the  Adventurer,  in  which  he 
began  to  write  April  10,  marking  his  essays  with  the 
signature  T,  by  which  most  of  his  papers  in  that  collec- 
tion are  distinguished  :  those,  however,  which  have 
that  signature  and  also  that  ot  Myaargyrus,  were  not 


204  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1753 

written  by  him,  but,  at  I  suppose,  by  Dr.  Bathurst 
Indeed  Johnson's  energy  of  thought  and  richnesa  of 
language  are  still  more  decisive  marks  than  any  signa- 
ture. As  a  proof  of  this,  my  readers,  I  ima^ne,  will 
not  doubt  tliat  Number  39,  on  sleep,  is  his  ;  for  it  not 
only  has  the  general  texture  and  colour  of  his  style, 
but  the  authors  with  whom  he  was  peculiarly  con- 
versant are  readily  introduced  in  it  in  cursory  allusion. 
The  translation  of  a  passage  in  Statius,  quoted  in  that 
paper,  and  marked  C.  B.,  has  been  erroneously  ascribed 
to  Dr.  Bathurst,  whose  Christian  name  was  Richard. 
How  much  this  amiable  man  contributed  to  the  Adven- 
turer cannot  be  known.  Let  me  add  that  Hawkes- 
worth's  imitations  of  Johnson  are  sometimes  so  happy, 
that  it  is  extremely  difficult  to  distinguish  them  with 
certainty,  from  the  compositions  of  his  great  arche- 
type. Hawkesworth  was  his  closest  imitator,  a  cir- 
cumstance of  which  that  writer  would  once  have  been 
proud  to  be  told  ;  though,  when  he  had  become  elated 
by  having  risen  into  some  degree  of  consequence,  he, 
in  a  conversation  with  me,  had  the  provoking  effron- 
tery to  say  he  was  not  sensible  of  it 

Johnson  was  truly  zealous  for  the  success  of  the 
Adventurer ;  and  very  soon  efter  his  engaging  in  it  he 
wrote  the  following  letter  : 

TO  THE  REV.  DR.  JOSEPH  WARTON 

'  Dbah  Sis, — I  ought  to  have  written  to  you  before  now,  bat 
I  ought  to  do  many  things  which  I  do  not ;  nor  can  I,  indeed, 
claim  any  merit  from  this  letter;  for  being  desired  by  the 
authors  and  proprietor  of  the  Adventurer  to  look  out  for 
another  hand,  my  thoughts  necessarily  fixed  upon  you,  whose 
fund  of  literature  will  enable  you  to  assist  them,  with  very 
little  interruption  of  your  studies. 


iET.  44]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON         205 

'  They  desire  you  to  engage  to  f umiah  one  paper  a  month, 
at  two  guineas  a  paper,  which  you  may  very  readily  perform. 
We  have  considered  that  a  paper  should  consist  of  pieces  of 
imagination,  pictures  of  life,  and  disquisitions  of  literature. 
The  part  which  depends  on  the  imagination  is  very  well  sup- 
plied, as  you  will  find  when  you  read  the  paper ;  for  descrip- 
tions of  life,  there  is  now  a  treaty  almost  made  with  an 
authour  and  an  authouress ;'  and  the  pro>-ince  of  criticism  and 
literature  they  are  very  desirous  to  assign  to  the  commentator 
on  Virgil. 

'  I  hope  this  proposal  will  not  be  rejected,  and  that  the  next 
poet  will  bring  us  yovir  compliance.  I  speak  as  one  of  the 
fraternity,  though  I  have  no  part  in  the  paper,  beyond  now 
and  then  a  motto ;  but  two  of  the  writers  are  my  particular 
friends,  and  I  hope  the  pleasure  of  seeing  a  third  united  to 
them  will  not  be  denied  to,  dear  sir,  your  most  obedient  and 
most  humble  servant,  Sau.  Johnsoh. 

'March  8,  1753.' 

The  consequence  of  this  letter  was  Dr.  '\V^arton'8 
enriching  the  collection  with  several  admirable  essays. 

Johnson's  saying  '  I  have  no  part  in  the  paper  be- 
yond now  and  then  a  motto,'  may  seem  inconsistent 
with  his  being  the  author  of  the  papers  marked  T. 
But  he  had,  at  this  time,  written  only,  one  number  ; 
»-.and  besides,  even  at  any  after  period,  he  might  have 
used  the  same  expression,  considering  it  as  a  point  of 
honour  not  to  own  them  ;  for  Mrs.  Williams  told  me 
that,  '  as  he  had  given  those  essays  to  Dr.  Bathurst, 
who  sold  them  at  two  guineas  each,  he  never  would 
own  them  ;  nay,  he  used  to  say  he  did  not  write  them  : 
but  the  fact  was,  that  he  dictated  them  while  Bathurst 
wrote.'  I  read  to  him  Mrs.  Williams's  account ;  he 
smiled,  and  said  nothing. 

I  am  not  quite  satisfied  with  the  casuistry  by  which 

1  [It  is  not  improbable  that  the  'authour  and  authouress'  were 
Henry  and  his  sister  Sally  Fielding. — M.] 


206         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1753 

the  productions  of  one  person  are  thus  passed  upon 
the  world  fur  the  productions  of  another.  I  allow  that 
not  only  knowledge,  but  powers  and  qualities  of  mind 
may  be  communicated  ;  but  the  actual  effect  of  in- 
dividual exertion  never  can  be  transferred,  with  truth, 
to  any  other  than  its  own  original  cause.  One  person's 
child  may  be  made  the  child  of  another  person  by 
adoption,  as  among  the  Ilomaus,  or  by  the  ancient 
Jewish  mode  of  a  wife  having  children  borne  to  her 
upon  her  knees,  by  her  handmaid.  But  these  were 
children  in  a  different  sense  from  that  of  nature.  It 
was  clearly  understood  that  they  were  not  of  the  blood 
of  their  nominal  parents.  So  in  literary  children,  an 
author  may  give  the  profits  and  fame  of  his  composi- 
tion to  another  man,  but  cannot  make  that  other  the 
real  author.  A  Highland  gentleman,  a  younger  branch 
of  a  family,  once  consulted  me  if  he  could  not  validly 
purchase  the  chieftainship  of  his  family  from  the  chief, 
who  was  willing  to  sell  it.  I  told  him  it  was  impossible 
for  him  to  acquire  by  purchase  a  right  to  be  a  different 
person  from  what  he  really  was  ;  for  that  the  right  of 
chieftainship  attached  to  the  blood  of  primogeniture, 
and,  therefore,  was  incapable  of  being  transferred.  I 
added,  that  though  Esau  sold  his  birthright,  or  the 
advantages  belonging  to  it,  he  still  remained  the  first- 
born of  his  parents  ;  and  that  whatever  agreement  a 
chief  might  make  with  any  of  the  clan,  the  Heralds' 
Office  could  not  admit  of  the  metamorphosis,  or  with 
any  decency  attest  that  the  younger  was  the  elder; 
but  I  did  not  convince  the  worthy  gentleman. 

Johnson's  papers  in  the  Adventurer  are  very  similar 
to  those  of  the  Rambler  ;  but  being  rather  more  varied 
in  their  subjects^  and  being  mixed  with  essays  by  other 


«T.  44]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         207 

writers,^  upon  topics  more  generally  attractive  than 
even  the  most  elegant  ethical  discourses,  the  sale  of 
the  work,  at  first,  was  more  extensive.  AVithout 
meaning,  however,  to  depreciate  the  Adventurer,  I 
must  observe,  that  as  the  value  of  the  Rambler  came, 
in  the  progress  of  time,  to  be  better  known,  it  grew 
upon  the  public  estimation,  and  that  its  sale  has  far 
exceeded  that  of  any  other  periodical  papers  since  the 
reign  of  Queen  Anne. 

In  one  of  the  books  of  his  diary  I  find  the  following 
entry: 

'Apr.  3,  17S3.  I  began  the  second  vol.  of  my  Dictionary, 
room  being  left  in  the  first  for  the  Preface,  Grammar,  and 
History,  none  of  them  yet  begun. 

'  O  God,  who  hast  hitherto  supported  me,  enable  me  to  pro- 
ceed in  this  labour,  and  in  the  whole  task  of  my  present  state ; 
that  when  I  shall  render  up,  at  the  last  day,  an  account  of  the 
talent  committed  to  me,  I  may  receive  pardon,  for  the  sake  of 
Jesus  Christ.    Amen.' 

He  this  year  favoured  Mrs.  Lenox  with  a  Dedica- 
tion to  the  Earl  of  Orrery,  of  her  Shakespeare  lUua- 
trated.* 

1  [Dr.  Johnson  lowered  and  somewhat  disguised  his  styl&  in  writing 
the  Advettturm,  in  order  that  his  papers  might  pass  for  those  of  Dr. 
JBathurst,  to  whom  he  consigned  the  profits.  This  was  Hawkesworth's 
opinion. — B  u  rn  ey.  ] 

>  [Two  of  Johnson's  letters,  addressed  to  Samuel  Richardson,  author 
of  Clarissa,  etc.,  the  former  dated  March  9,  1750-1,  the  other  Septem- 
ber 26,  1753,  are  preserved  in  Richardson's  Correspondence,  8vo,  1804, 
vol.  V.  pp.  281-384.  1°  the  latter  of  these  letters  Johnson  suggested  to 
Richardson  the  propriety  of  making  an  Index  to  bis  three  works :  '  but 
while  I  am  writineOie  adds),  an  objection  arises  ;  such  an  index  to  the 
three  would  look  lilce  a  preclusion  of  a  fourth,  to  which  I  will  never 
contribute  ;  for  if  I  cannot  benefit  mankind  I  hope  never  to  injure  them.' 
Richardson,  however,  adopted  the  hint;  for,  in  1755,  he  published  in 
octavo,  A  Collection  o/tht  moral  and  instructive  Sentiments,  Alaxinu, 
Cautions,  and  Reflections,  contained  in  the  Histories  of  Pamela, 
Clarissa,  and  Sir  Charles  Grandison,  digested  under  proper  heads. 

It  is  remarkablcu  that  both  to  this  book,  and  to  the  first  two  volumes 
of  Clarissa,  is  prefixed  a  Preface,  by  a  friend ;  the  '  friend,'  in  this  latter 
instance,  was  the  celebrated  Dr.  Warburton. — M.] 


208         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1754 

In  17A4 1  can  trace  nothing  publiKhed  bjr  him,  except 
his  numbers  of  the  Adventurer,  and  'The  Life  of 
Edward  Cave,'  in  the  Gentleman't  Magazine  for  Feb- 
ruarjr.  In  biography  there  can  be  no  question  that  he 
excelled,  beyond  all  who  have  attempted  that  species 
of  composition  ;  upon  which,  indeed,  he  set  the  high- 
est vnlue.  To  the  minute  selection  of  characteristical 
circumstances,  for  which  the  ancients  were  remarkable, 
he  added  a  philosophical  research,  and  the  most  per- 
spicuous and  energetic  language.  Cave  was  certainly 
a  man  of  estimable  qualities,  and  was  eminently  dili- 
gent and  successful  in  his  own  business,  which,  doubt- 
less, entitled  him  to  respect  But  he  was  peculiarly 
fortunate  in  being  recorded  by  Johnson  ;  who,  of  the 
narrow  life  of  a  printer  and  publisher,  without  any 
digressions  or  adventitious  circumstances,  has  made 
an  interesting  and  agreeable  narrative. 

Tlie  Dictionary,  we  may  believe,  afforded  Johnson 
full  occupation  this  year.  As  it  approached  to  its  con- 
clusion, he  probably  worked  with  redoubled  vigour,  as 
seamen  increase  their  exertion  and  alacrity  when  they 
have  n  near  prospect  of  their  haven. 

Lord  Chesterfield,  to  whom  Johnson  had  paid  the 
high  compliment  of  addressing  to  his  lordship  the  Plan 
of  his  Dictionary,  had  behaved  to  him  in  such  a  man- 
ner as  to  excite  his  contempt  and  indignation.  The 
world  has  been  for  many  years  amused  with  a  story 
confidently  told,  and  as  confidently  repeated  with  addi- 
tional circumstances,  that  a  sudden  disgust  was  taken 
by  Johnson  upon  occasion  of  his  having  been  one  day 
kept  long  in  waiting  in  his  lordship's  antechamber,  for 
which  the  reason  assigned  was,  that  he  had  company 
with  him  ;  and  that  at  last,  when  the  door  opened,  out 


^T.  45]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  209 

walked  Collie  Gibber ;  and  that  Johnson  was  so  vio- 
lently provoked  when  he  found  for  whom  he  had  been 
BO  long  excluded,  that  he  went  away  in  a  passion,  and 
never  would  return.  I  remember  having  mentioned 
this  story  to  George  Lord  Lyttelton,  who  told  me  he 
was  very  intimate  with  Lord  Chesterfield  ;  and  holding 
it  as  a  well-known  truth,  defended  Lord  Chesterfield 
by  saying  that '  Cibber,  who  had  been  introduced  fami- 
liarly by  the  backstairs,  had  probably  not  been  there 
above  ten  minutes.'  It  may  seem  strange  even  to 
entertain  a  doubt  concerning  a  story  so  long  and  so 
widely  current,  and  thus  implicitly  adopted,  if  not 
sanctioned  by  the  authority  which  I  have  mentioned  ; 
but  Johnson  himself  assured  me,  that  there  was  not 
the  least  foundation  for  it.  He  told  me  that  there 
never  was  any  particular  incident  which  produced  a 
quarrel  between  Lord  Chesterfield  and  him  ;  but  that 
his  lordship's  continued  neglect  was  the  reason  why 
he  resolved  to  have  no  connection  with  him.  When 
the  Dictionary  was  upon  the  eve  of  publication.  Lord 
Chesterfield,  who,  it  is  said,  had  flattered  himself  with 
dxpectations  that  Johnson  would  dedicate  the  work  to 
him,  attempted,  in  a  courtly  manner,  to  soothe  and 
insinuate  himself  with  the  sage,  conscious  as  it  should 
seem,  of  the  cold  indifference  with  which  he  had 
treated  its  learned  author ;  and  further  attempted  to 
conciliate  him  by  writing  two  papers  in  the  World, 
in  recommendation  of  the  work  ;  and  it  must  be  con- 
fessed that  they  contain  some  studied  compliments, 
80  finely  turned,  that  if  there  had  been  no  previous 
offence,  it  is  probable  that  Johnson  would  have 
been  highly  delighted.  Praise,  in  general,  was  pleas- 
ing  to   him ;    but   by   praise  from  a  man   of   rank 

VOL.  I.  o 


210         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1754 

and    elegant    accomplishment*,    he    waa    peeuliarlj 
gratified. 

His  lordship  aaya : 

'  I  think  tb«  pablio  in  general,  and  the  repoblio  of  letten  in 
particular,  are  greatlj  obliged  to  Mr.  Johnaoo  for  having 
undertaken  and  exeeuted  to  great  and  daeiiabia  a  work.  Par* 
feotion  is  not  to  be  expected  from  man ;  bat  if  we  are  to  judge 
by  the  various  worlca  of  Johnson  alreadj  puldiahed,  we  have 
good  reason  to  believe  tliat  he  will  bring  this  as  near  to  perfoe- 
tion  as  any  man  oould  do.  The  Plan  of  it,  whiob  he  poUlshad 
some  years  ago,  aeenu  to  me  to  be  a  proof  of  it.  Nothing  eaa 
be  more  rationally  imagined,  or  more  accurately  and  elegantly 
expressed.  I  therefore  reoommeod  the  previoas  perasal  of 
it  to  all  those  who  intend  to  buy  the  DMC^bnary,  and  who,  X 
suppose,  are  all  thoee  who  can  afford  it. 

•  •  •  *  .  •  • 

'  It  must  be  owned  that  our  language  is  at  present  in  a  stata 
ot  anarchy,  and  hitherto,  perhape,  it  may  not  have  been  the 
worse  for  it.  During  oar  free  and  open  trade,  many  words 
and  expressions  have  been  imported,  adopted,  and  naturalised 
from  other  languages,  which  have  greatly  enriched  our  own. 
Let  it  still  preserve  what  real  strength  and  beauty  it  may  have 
borrowed  from  others  ;  but  let  it  not,  like  the  Tarpeian  maid, 
be  overwhelmed  and  cnuhed  by  unnecessary  ornaments.  The 
time  for  discrimination  seems  to  be  now  come.  Toleration, 
adoption,  and  naturalisation,  have  run  their  lengths.  Good 
order  and  authority  are  now  neoessary.  But  where  shall  we 
find  them,  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  obedience  due  to  them? 
"We  must  have  recourse  to  the  old  Roman  expedient  in  times 
of  confusion,  and  choose  a  dictator.  Upon  this  principle  I 
give  my  vote  for  Mr.  Johnson  to  fill  that  great  and  arduous 
post.  And  I  hereby  declare,  that  I  make  a  total  surrender  of 
all  my  rights  and  privileges  in  the  English  language  as  a  free- 
bom  British  subject,  to  the  said  Mr.  Johnson,  during  the  term 
of  his  dictatorship.  Nay,  more,  I  will  not  only  obey  him  like 
an  old  Roman,  as  my  dictator,  but  like  a  modem  Roman  I 
■will  implicitly  believe  in  him  as  my  Pope,  and  hold  him  to  be 
infallible  while  in  the  chair,  but  no  longer.    3Iore  than  this 


iET.  45]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         211 

he  cannot  well  require;  for  I  presume  that  obedience  can 
never  be  expected  when  there  is  neither  terror  to  enforce,  nor 
intoMt  to  inrite  it. 

'But  a  Grammar,  a  Dictionary,  and  a  History  of  oar  Lan- 
guage through  ito  several  stages,  were  still  wanting  at  home, 
and  importunately  called  for  from  abroad.  Mr.  Johnson's 
labours  will  now,  I  dare  say,  very  fully  supply  that  want,  and 
greatly  contribute  to  the  further  spreading  of  our  language  in 
other  countries.  Learners  were  discouraged  by  finding  no 
standard  to  resort  to ;  and,  consequently,  thought  it  incapable 
of  any.    They  will  now  be  undeceived  and  encouraged.' 

This  courtly  device  failed  of  its  effect  Johnson, 
who  thought  that  '  all  was  false  and  hollow,'  despised 
the  honeyed  words,  and  was  even  indignant  that  Lord 
Chesterfield  should,  for  a  moment,  imagine  that  he 
could  be  the  dupe  of  such  an  artifice.  His  expression 
to  me  concerning  Lord  Chesterfield  upon  this  occasion 
was,  '  Sir,  after  making  great  professions,  he  had  for 
many  years  taken  no  notice  of  me ;  but  when  my 
Dictionary  was  coming  out,  he  fell  a-scribbling  in  the 
World  about  it.  Upon  which  I  wrote  him  a  letter 
expressed  in  civil  terms,  but  such  as  might  show  him 
that  I  did  not  mind  what  be  said  or  wrote,  and  that 
I  had  done  with  him.' 

This  is  that  celebrated  letter  of  which  so  much  has 
been  said,  and  about  which  curiosity  has  been  so  long 
excited,  without  being  gratified.  I  for  many  years 
solicited  Johnson  to  favour  me  with  a  copy  of  it,  that 
60  excellent  a  composition  might  not  be  lost  to 
posterity.  He  delayed  from  time  to  time  to  give  it 
me  ;^  till  at  last,  in  1781,  when  we  were  on  a  visit  at 

1  Dr.  Johnson  appeared  to  have  bad  a  remarkable  delicacy  with 
respect  to  the  circulation  of  this  letter :  for  Dr.  Douglas,  Bisnop  of 
Salisbury,  informs  me,  that  having  many  years  ago  pressed  bim  to  be 


212         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1754 

Mr.  Dilly'a,  at  Southill  in  Bedfordshire,  he  was  pleated 
to  dictate  it  to  me  from  memory.  He  afterwards 
found  among  his  papers  a  copy  of  it,  which  he  had 
dictated  to  Mr.  Barctti,  with  its  title  and  corrections, 
in  his  own  handwriting.  This  he  gave  to  Mr.  Lang- 
ton ;  adding,  that  if  it  were  to  come  into  print,  he 
wished  it  to  be  from  that  copy.  By  Mr.  Langton's 
kindness,  I  am  enabled  to  enrich  my  work  with  a 
perfect  transcript  of  what  the  world  has  so  eagerly 
desired  to  see : 

TO  THE  RIGHT   BOXOtrRABLE  THK   EARL   OF 
CHESTERFIKLD 

February  7,  175B. 

*Mt  Lobd,— I  have  been  latolj  informed,  by  the  proprietor 
of  the  World,  that  two  papers,  in  which  my  Dielionarp  ia 
recommended  to  the  puUie,  wore  written  by  year  Lordship. 
To  be  80  distinguished  is  an  honour,  which,  being  rery  little 
aocustomed  to  favours  from  the  great,  I  know  not  well  how  to 
receive,  or  in  what  terms  to  acknowledge. 

'^^^len,  upon  some  slight  encoumgemeDt,  I  first  visited 
your  Lordship,  I  was  overpowered,  Uks  the  rest  of  mankind, 
by  the  enchantment  of  your  addrMS,  and  oould  not  forbear  to 
wish  that  I  might  boast  myself  Le  vainqutur  du  vainqueur  de 
la  terre  ;— that  I  might  obuin  that  regard  for  which  I  saw  the 
world  contending;  but  I  foimd  my  attendance  so  little  en- 
couraged that  neither  pride  nor  modesty  would  suffer  me  to 
continue  it.  When  I  had  once  addrened  your  Lordship  in 
public  I  had  exhausted  all  the  art  of  pleasing  which  a  retired 
and  uncourtly  scholar  can  possess.  I  had  done  all  that  I 
oould ;  and  no  man  is  well  pleased  to  have  his  all  n^lected, 
be  it  ever  so  little. 


allowed  to  read  it  to  the  second  Lord  Hardwicke,  who  was  very 

desirous  to  hear  it  (promising  at  the  same  time,  that  no  copf  of  it 
should  be_  taken),  Johnson  seemed  much  pleased  that  it  had  attracted 
the  attention  of  a  nobleman  of  such  a  respectable  character  ;  but,  after 
pausing  some  time,  declined  to  comply  with  the  request,  saying,  with 
a  smile,  '  No,  ar ;  I  have  hurt  the  dog  too  luucb  already ' ;  or  words 
to  that  purpose. 


iET.  45]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  213 

'  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  my  work  through  difficulties, 
of  which  it  w  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  treat- 
ment I  did  not  expect,  for  I  never  had  a  Patron  before. 

*  The  shepherd  in  Viigil  grew  at  last  acquainted  with  Love, 
and  found  him  a  native  of  the  rocks. 

'  Is  not  a  Patron,  my  Lord,  one  who  looks  with  tmconcem 
on  a  man  struggling  for  life  in  the  water,  and,  when  he  has 
reached  ground,  encumbers  him  with  help?  The  notice  which 
you  have  been  pleased  to  take  of  my  labours,  had  it  been 
early,  had  been  kind ;  but  it  has  been  delayed  till  I  am  in- 
different, 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  very  cynical  asperity  not  to  confess  obUgations  where  no 
benefit  has  been  received,  or  to  be  imwilling  that  the  public 
should  consider  me  as  owing  that  to  a  Patron,  which  Providence 
has  enabled  mo  to  do  for  myself. 

*  Having  carried  on  my  work  thus  far  with  so  little  obliga- 
tion to  any  favourer  of  learning,  I  shall  not  be  disappointed 
though  I  should  conclude  it,  if  less  be  possible,  with  less ;  for 
I  have  been  long  awakened  from  that  dream  of  hope,  in  which 
I  once  boasted  myself  with  so  much  exultation,  my  Lord, — 
Your  Lordship's  most  humble,  most  obedient  servant, 
'Sam.  Johnson.'* 

*  The  following  note  is  subjoined  by  Mr.  Langton: — '  Dr.  Johnson, 
when  he  gave  me  this  copy  of  his  letter,  desired  that  I  would  annex  to 
it  his  infurmation  to  me,  that  whereas  it  is  said  in  the  letter  that  '  no 
assistance  has  been  received,'  he  did  once  receive  from  Lord  Chester- 
field the  sum  of  iQjo,  but  as  that  was  so  inconsiderable  a  sum,  he 
tboug^ht  the  mention  of  it  could  not  properly  find  a  place  in  a  letter  of 
the  kind  that  this  was.' 

'^  In  this  passage  Dr.  Johnson  evidently  alludes  to  the  loss  of  his 
wife.  ^  We  find  the  same  tender  recollection  recurring  to  his  mind 
upon  innumerable  occasions ;  and,  perhaps,  no  man  ever  more  forcibly 
felt  the  truthof  the  sentiment  so  elegantly  expressed  by  my  friend  Mr. 
Malone,  in  his  prologue  to  Mr.  Jepbson's  tragedy  oi  Julia  : 

'  Vain — wealth,  and  fame,  and  fortune's  fostering  care, 
If  no  fond  breast  the  splendid  blessings  share : 
And,  each  day's  bustling  pageantry  once  past, 
There,  only  there,  our  bliss  is  found  at  last.' 
'  Upon  comparing  this  copy  with  that  which  Dr.  Johnson  dictated 
to  me  from  recollection,  the  variations  are  found  to  be  so  slight,  that 


214         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1754 

'VVliile  thig  was  the  talk  of  the  town  (ny*  Dr. 
Adams,  in  a  letter  to  me),  I  happened  to  visit  Dr. 
Warburton,  who  finding  that  I  was  acquainted  with 
Johnson,  desired  me  eamestlf  to  cany  his  compli- 
ments to  him,  and  to  tell  him,  that  he  honoured  him 
for  his  manly  behaviour  in  rejecting  these  condescen- 
sions of  Lord  Chesterfield,  and  for  resenting  the 
treatment  he  had  received  from  him  with  a  proper 
spirit  Johnson  was  visibly  pleased  with  this  com- 
pliment, for  he  had  always  a  high  opinion  of  War- 
burton.'^  Indeed,  the  force  of  mind  which  appeared 
in  this  letter,  was  congenial  with  that  which  Warburton 
himself  amply  possessed. 

There  is  a  curious  minute  circumstance  which  struck 
me,  in  comparing  the  various  editions  of  Johnson's 
Imitations  of  Juvenal.  In  the  tenth  Satire  one  of  the 
couplets  upon  the  vanity  of  wishes  even  for  literary 
distinction  stood  thus : 

'Tet  think  what  ilU  the  ■eholar's  life  aswO, 
Toil,  envy,  want,  the  garret,  and  the  jaiL' 

But  after  experiencing  the  uneasiness  which  Lord 
Chesterfield  s  fallacious  patronage  made  him  feel,  he 
dismissed  the  word  garret  from  the  sad  group,  and  in 
all  the  subsequent  editions  the  line  stands 

'  Toil,  cnvj,  want,  the  Patron,  and  the  jaiL' 

this  most  be  added  to  the  many  other  proof*  which  be  gave  of  the 
wonderful^ extent  and  accuracy  of  hLs  memoiy.  To  gratify  the  curious 
in  composition,  I  have  deposited  both  the  copies  in  the  British  Museum. 
_l_Soon  after  Exlwards's  Canant  of  Criticism  came  out,  lohmon  was 
dining  at  Tonson  the  Bookseller's,  with  Hayman  the  Painter,  and 
some  more  company.^  Hayman  related  to  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  that 
the_ conversation  havine  turned  upon  Edwardss  book,  the  gentlemen 
praised  it  much,  and  Johnson  allowed  its  merit.  But  wboi  they  went 
further,  aiid  appeared  to  put  that  author  upon  a  level  with  Warburton, 
'  Nay  (said  Johnson),  he  has  given  him  some  smart  hits  to  be  sure ; 
but  there  is  no  proportion  between  the  two  men  ;  they  must  not  be 
named  together.  A  fly,  sir,  may  stine  a  stately  horse  and  make  him 
wince ;  but  one  is  but  an  insect,  and  the  other  is  a  horse  stilL 


iET.4S]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON         215 

That  Lord  Chesterfield  must  have  been  mortified 
by  the  lofty  contempt,  and  polite^  yet  keen,  satire 
with  which  Johnson  exhibited  him  to  himself  in  this 
letter,  it  is  impossible  to  doubt  He,  however,  with 
that  glossy  duplicity  which  was  his  constant  study, 
affected  to  be  quite  unconcerned.  Dr.  Adams  men- 
tioned to  Mr.  Robert  Dodsley  that  he  was  sorry 
Johnson  had  written  his  letter  to  Lord  Chesterfield. 
Dodsley,  with  the  true  feelings  of  trade,  said  '  he  was 
very  sorry  too  ;  for  that  he  had  a  property  in  the 
Dictionary,  to  which  his  Lordship's  patronage  might 
have  been  of  consequence.'  He  then  told  Dr.  Adams 
that  Lord  Chesterfield  had  shown  him  the  letter.  '  I 
should  have  imagined  (replied  Dr.  Adams)  that  Lord 
Chesterfield  would  have  concealed  it.'  'Poh!  (said 
Dodsley),  do  you  think  a  letter  from  Johnson  could 
hurt  Lord  Chesterfield  ?  Not  at  all,  sir.  It  lay  upon 
his  table,  where  anybody  might  see  it.  He  read  it  to 
me  ;  said,  ''This  man  has  great  powers,"  pointed  out 
the  severest  passages,  and  observed  how  well  they 
were  expressed.'  This  air  of  indifference,  which  im- 
posed upon  the  worthy  Dodsley,  was  certainly  nothing 
but  a  specimen  of  that  dissimulation  which  Lord 
Chesterfield  inculcated  as  one  of  the  most  essential 
lessons  for  the  conduct  of  life.  His  Lordship  endea- 
voured to  justify  himself  to  Dodsley  from  the  charges 
brought  against  him  by  Johnson  ;  but  we  may  judge 
of  the  flimsiness  of  his  defence  from  his  having  excused 
his  neglect  of  Johnson  by  saying,  'that  he  had  heard 
he  had  changed  his  lodgings,  and  did  not  know  where 
he  lived ' ;  as  if  there  could  have  been  the  smallest 
difficulty  to  inform  himself  of  that  circumstance  by 
inquiring  in  the  literary  circle  with  which  his  Lord- 


216         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1754 

ship  was  well  acquainted,  and  waa,  indeed,  himielf 
one  of  its  ornaments. 

Dr.  Adams  expostulated  with  Johnson,  and  tug- 
gested  that  his  not  being  admitted  when  he  called  on 
him  was  probably  not  to  be  imputed  to  Lord  Cheatar- 
field  ;  for  his  Lordnhip  had  declared  to  Dodaley,  that 
'he  would  have  turned  off  the  best  servant  he  ever 
had  if  he  had  known  that  he  denied  him  to  a  man 
who  would  have  been  always  more  than  welcome ' ; 
and  in  confirmation  of  this,  he  insisted  on  Lord 
Chesterfield's  general  affability  and  easiness  of  accea, 
especially  to  literary  men.  '  Sir  (said  Johnson),  that 
is  not  Lord  Chesterfield  ;  he  is  the  proudest  man  this 
day  existing.'  'No  (said  Dr.  Adams),  there  is  one 
person,  at  least,  as  proud ;  I  think,  by  your  own 
account,  you  are  the  prouder  man  of  the  two.'  '  But 
mine  (replied  Johnson  instantly)  was  d^entite  pride.' 
This,  as  Dr.  Adams  well  observed,  was  one  of  those 
happy  turns  for  which  he  was  so  remarkably  ready. 

Johnson  having  now  explicitly  avowed  his  opinion 
of  Lord  Chesterfield,  did  not  refrain  from  expressing 
himself  concerning  that  nobleman  with  pointed  free* 
dom  :  'This  man  (said  he)  I  thought  had  been  a  Lord 
among  wits  ;  but,  I  find,  he  is  only  a  wit  among 
Lords. '^  And  when  his  Letters  to  his  natural  son 
were  published,  he  observed,  that  'they  teach  the 
morals  of  a  whore,  and  the  manners  of  a  dancing- 
master.'* 


1  [Johnson's  character  of  Chesterfield  seems  to  be  imitated  from— 
inter  doctos  nobilissimus,  inter  nohiUs  dcctittimut,  inter  utrotqiu 
optimus  (ex  Apuleio.  v.  Erasm. — Dedication  of  Adagies  to  Lord 
Mountjoy) ;  and  from  tStwrT)«  iv  ^iAo<r6^oif,  ^iAb<ro^«  et>  (3(a«ruc. — 
Proclus  de  Critica.— Kearney.] 

3  That  collection  of  letters  cannot  be  vindicated  from  the  scrions 
cbaige  of  encouraging,  in  some  passages,  ooe  of  the  vices  most  destmo- 


iET.45]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  217 

The  character  of  a  '  respectable  Hottentot,'  in  Lord 
Chesterfield's  letters,  has  been  generally  understood 
to  be  meant  for  Johnson,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  it 
was.  But  I  remember  when  the  Literary  Property  of 
those  letters  were  contested  in  the  Court  of  Session  in 
Scotland,  and  Mr.  Henry  Dundas,*  one  of  the  counsel 
fur  the  proprietors,  read  this  character  as  an  exhibition 
of  Johnson,  Sir  David  Dalrjonple,  Lord  Hailes,  one 
of  the  judges,  maintained,  with  some  warmth,  that  it 
was  not  intended  as  a  portrait  of  Johnson,  but  of  a 
late  noble  Lord,  distinguished  for  abstruse  science.  I 
have  heard  Johnson  himself  talk  of  the  character,  and 
say  that  it  was  meant  for  George  Lord  Lyttelton,  in 
which  I  could  by  no  means  agree ;  for  his  Lordship 
had  nothing  of  that  violence  which  is  a  conspicuous 
feature  in  the  composition.  Finding  that  my  illus- 
trious friend  could  bear  to  have  it  supposed  that  it 
might  be  meant  for  him,  I  said,  laughingly,  that  there 
was  one  trait  which  unquestionably  did  not  belong  to 
him ;    'he  throws  his  meat  anywhere  but  down  his 

live  to  the  good  order  and  comfort  of  society,  which  bis  Lordship 
represents  ms  mere  fashionable  gallantry ;  and,  in  others,  of  inculcating 
the  base  practice  of  dissimulation,  and  recommending,  with  dispropor- 
tionate  anxiety,  a  perpetual  attention  to  external  elegance  of  manners, 
liut  it  must  at  the  same  time  be  allowed  that  they  contain  many  good 
precepts  of  conduct,  and  much  genuine  information  upon  life  and 
manners,  very  happily  expressed  ;  and  that  there  was  considerable 
merit  in  paying  so  much  attention  to  the  improvement  of  one  who  was 
dependent  upon  bis  Lordship's  protection ;  it  has,  probably,  been 
exceeded  in  no  iiutance  by  the  must  exemplary  parent :  and  though  I 
can  by  no  means  approve  of  confounding  the  distinction  between  lawful 
and  illicit  offspring,  which  is,  in  effect,  insulting  the  civil  establishment 
of  our  country,  to  Took  no  higher  ;  I  cannot  help  thinking  it  laudable  to 
be  kindly  attentive  to  those  of  whose  existence  we  have,  in  any  way, 
been  the  cause.  _Mr.  Stanhope's  character  has  been  unjustly  repre- 
sented as  diametrically  opposite  to  what  Ix>rd  Chesterfield  wished  nim 
to  be.  He  has  been  called  dull,  gross,  and  awkward  :  but  I  knew  him 
at  Dresden,  when  he  was  Envoy  to  that  Court :  and  though  he  could 
not  boast  oxxhc^aces,  he  was,  u  truth,  a  sensible,  civil,  well-behaved 
man. — Boswell. 
1  Now  [1793]  one  of  his  Majesty's  principal  Secretaries  of  State. 


218         LIFE   OP   DR.    JOHNSON        [1754 

throat.'    'Sir  (nid  he).  Lord  Ch«itor6ald  never  mw 
me  eat  in  his  life.'^ 

On  the  Gth  of  March  came  out  Lord  Bolingbroke'a 
works,  published  by  Mr.  David  .MalleL  The  vild  and 
pernicious  raving*,  under  the  xuune  of  *  Philoao|Ajr,' 
which  were  thus  ushered  into  the  world,  gave  great 
offence  to  all  well-principled  men.  Johnson,  bearing 
of  their  tendency,  which  nobody  disputed,  was  roused 
with  a  just  indignation,  and  pronounced  this  memor- 
able sentence  upon  the  noble  author  and  hb  editor. 
'  Sir,  he  was  a  scoundrel  and  a  coward :  a  scoundrel 
for  charging  a  blunderbuss  against  religion  and 
morality ;  a  coward,  because  he  had  no  resolution  to 
fire  it  off  himself,  but  left  half-a-crown  to  a  beggarly 
Scotchman  to  draw  the  trigger  after  his  death ! ' 
Garrick,  who,  I  can  attest  from  my  own  knowledge, 
had  his  mind  seasoned  with  pious  revereDC«i,  and 
sincerely  disapproved  of  the  infidel  writings  of  eereral 
whom  in  the  course  of  his  almost  universal  gay  inter- 
course with  men  of  eminence  he  treated  with  external 
civility,  distinguished  himself  upon  this  occasion. 
Mr.  Pelham  having  died  on  the  very  day  on  which 
Lord  Bolingbroke's  works  came  out,  he  wrote  an 
elegant  Ode  on  his  death,  beginning 

*  Let  others  hail  the  rinng  son, 
I  bow  to  that  wboM  oooxse  is  nm' ; 

in  which  is  the  following  stanza : 

*  The  same  sad  mom,  to  Church  and  State 
(So  for  our  sina  'twas  fix'd  hy  fate), 
A  double  stroke  was  given  ; 


1  [Dr.  Birkbeck  Hill  {Dr.Jokiuon,  his  Friends  and  his  Critics,  p.  »i4) 
has,  I  think,  completely  nuide  out  that  the  '  re^iectable  Hottentot '  was 
not  meant  for  Johnson,  but  for  Lord  Lytteltoo. — A.  B.] 


^T.  45]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         219 

BImIc  m  the  whirlwinds  of  the  North, 
St.  John's  fell  genius  iasued  forth. 
And  PdhAm  fled  to  heaTen.' 

Johnson  this  year  found  an  interval  of  leisure  to 
make  an  excursion  to  Oxford,  for  the  purpose  of  con- 
sulting the  libraries  there.  Of  this,  and  of  many 
interesting  circumstances  concerning  him,  during  a 
part  of  his  life  when  he  conversed  but  little  with  the 
world,  I  am  enabled  to  give  a  particular  account, 
by  the  liberal  communications  of  the  Reverend  Mr. 
Thomas  Warton,  who  obligingly  furnished  me  with 
■ereral  of  our  common  friend's  letters,  which  he 
illustrated  with  notes.  These  I  shall  insert  in  their 
proper  places. 

TO  THE  RET.  mt.  THOMAS  WARTON 

*  Sm, — It  b  bat  an  ill  retnm  for  the  book  with  which  jon 
were  pleased  to  favour  roe,'  to  have  delayed  my  thanks  for  it 
till  now.  I  am  too  apt  to  be  negligent;  but  I  can  never 
deliberat«l J  show  mj  disreupeot  to  a  man  of  your  character : 
and  I  now  pay  you  a  very  honest  acknowledgment  for  the 
advancement  of  the  literature  of  our  native  country.  You 
have  shown  to  all  who  shall  hereafter  attempt  the  study  of 
oar  ancient  authors  the  way  to  success ;  bj'  directing  them  to 
the  pcniml  of  the  books  which  those  authors  had  read.  Of 
this  method  Hughes,*  and  men  much  greater  than  Hughes, 
seem  never  to  have  thought.  The  reason  why  the  authors, 
which  are  yet  read,  of  the  sixteenth  century,  are  so  little 
understood,  is,  that  they  are  read  alone;  and  no  help  is 
borrowed  from  those  who  lived  with  them  or  before  them. 
Some  part  of  this  ignorance  I  hope  to  remove  by  my  book,' 
which  now  draws  towards  its  end  ;  but  which  I  cannot  finish 
to  my  mind  without  visiting  the  libraries  of  Oxford,  which  I 

1  '  Obttrvatiimt  on.  S/€iutr't  Fatty  Qtuttt,  the  first  edition  of  which 
wax  now  published.' 
'■<  '  Hughes  published  an  edition  of  SpenMr.' 
»  '  His  Dictionttry.' 


220         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1754 

therefore  hope  to  see  In  »  fortnight.  ^  I  know  not  how  loog  X 
ahftll  stay,  or  where  I  ihall  lodge :  bat  tixah  be  nve  to  look 
for  yon  at  my  arrival,  and  we  shall  eacilj  Mttle  tho  reofc.  I 
am,  dear  lir,  your  most  obedient,  eto.,  8am.  Jouiaoa. 

•[London,]  July  16,  176i.* 

Of  his  couversation  while  at  Oxford  at  thin  time 
Mr.  Warton  preserved  aud  cummunicated  to  me  the 
following  memorial,  which,  though  not  written  with 
all  the  care  and  attention  which  that  learned  and 
elegant  writer  bestowed  on  those  compositions  which 
he  intended  for  the  public  eye,  is  so  happily  expressed 
in  an  easy  style,  thut  I  should  injure  it  by  any  alterft- 
tion: 

*  When  Johnson  came  to  Oxford  in  1754,  the  long  vaeatioa 
was  beginning,  and  most  people  were  leaving  the  plaoe.  This 
was  the  first  time  of  his  being  there  after  quitting  the  Utd* 
versity.  The  next  morning  after  his  arrival  he  wished  to  ses 
his  old  college,  Pembroke.  I  went  with  him.  He  was  highly 
pleased  to  find  all  the  college  servants  which  he  had  left  then 
still  remaining,  particularly  a  very  old  butler ;  and  expressed 
great  satisfaction  at  being  reeognised  by  them,  and  oonverssd 
^«ith  them  familiarly.  He  wait«d  on  the  master.  Dr.  Bad> 
cliffe,  who  received  him  very  coldly.  Johnson  at  least  ex* 
peeted  that  the  master  would  order  a  copy  of  his  Dietionarjft 
now  near  publication ;  but  the  master  did  not  ehooee  to  talk 
on  the  subject,  never  asked  Johnson  to  dine,  nor  even  to  visit 
him,  while  he  stayed  at  Oxford.  After  we  had  left  the  lodg* 
ings,  Johnson  said  to  me,  "  There  lives  a  man  who  lives  by 
the  revenues  of  literature,  and  will  not  move  a  finger  to  sup- 
port it.  If  I  come  to  live  at  Oxford,  I  shall  take  up  my  abode 
at  Trinity."  We  then  called  on  the  Beverend  Mr.  Meeke,  one 
of  the  Fellows,  and  of  Johnson's  standing.  Here  was  a  most 
cordial  greeting  on  both  sides.    On  leaving  him,  Johnson  said. 


1  '  He  came  to  Oxford  w-ithin  a  fortnirfat  and  stayed  about  five  weeks. 
He  lodged  at  a  house  called  Kettel  Hall,  near  Trinity  College.  Bnt 
during  this  visit  at  Oxtord  he  collected  nothing  in  the  libraries  ior  bis 
Dictioiuuy.' 


/ET.45]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON         221 

"I  Hied  to  think  ileeke  had  excellent  parts  when  we  were 
bojs  together  at  the  college :  but,  alas  ! 

'  Lost  in  a.  convent'i  solitary  gloom ! ' — 

I  remember,  at  the  classical  lecture  in  the  Hall,  I  could  not 
bear  Meeke's  superiority,  and  I  tried  to  sit  as  far  from  him  as 
I  ooold,  that  I  might  not  hear  him  construe." 

•As  we  were  learing  the  College,  he  said,  "  Here  I  trans- 
lated Pope's  ifesaiah.  Which  do  you  think  is  the  best  line  in 
it  ? — My  own  favourite  is — 

Vallis  aromaticas  fundit  Saronica  nubes." 

I  told  him  I  thought  it  a  very  sonorous  hexameter.  I  did  not 
tell  him  it  was  not  in  the  Yirgilian  style.  He  much  regretted 
that  his  firtt  tutor  was  deail ;  for  whom  he  seemed  to  retain 
the  greatest  regard.  He  said,  "I  once  had  been  a  whole 
morning  sliding  in  Christ  Church  meadows,  and  missed  his 
lecture  in  logic.  After  dinner  he  sent  for  me  to  his  room.  I 
expected  a  sharp  rebuke  for  my  idleness,  and  went  with  a 
beating  heart.  When  we  were  seated,  he  told  mo  he  had 
sent  for  me  to  drink  a  glass  of  wine  with  him,  and  to  tell  me 
he  was  not  angry  with  me  for  missing  his  lecture.  This  was, 
in  fact,  a  most  severe  reprimand.  Some  more  of  the  boys 
were  then  sent  for,  and  we  spent  a  very  pleasant  afternoon." 
Besides  Mr.  Meeke,  there  was  only  one  other  Fellow  of  Pem- 
broke now  resident :  from  both  of  whom  Johnson  received 
the  greatest  civilities  during  this  visit,  and  they  pressed  him 
very  much  to  have  a  room  in  the  College. 

'In  the  course  of  this  visit  (1754)  Johnson  and  I  walked 
three  or  four  times  to  Ellsfield,  a  village  beautifully  situated 
about  three  miles  from  Oxford,  to  see  Mr.  Wise,  Radclivian 
librarian,  with  whom  Johnson  was  much  pleased.  At  this 
place  Mr.  Wise  had  fitted  up  a  bouse  and  gardens  in  a  singular 
manner,  but  with  great  taste.  Here  was  an  excellent  library ; 
[tarticularly,  a  valuable  collection  of  books  in  northern  litera- 
ture, with  which  Johnson  was  often  very  busy.  One  day 
Mr.  Wi«e  read  to  us  a  dissertation  which  he  was  preparing 
for  the  press,  entitled,  A  History  and  Chronology  of  the 
Fabulous  Age*.  Some  old  divinities  of  Thrace,  related  to  the 
Titans,  and  called  the  Cabiri,  made  a  very  important  part  of 
the  theory  of  this  piece  ;  and  in  conversation  afterwards,  Mr. 


222         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [i754 

Wise  talked  much  of  his  Cabiri.  Aa  we  returned  to  Oxford  ia 
the  evening  I  outwalked  Johnaon,  and  he  oriod  oot  A^OMtfiM, 
a  Latin  word  which  came  from  hia  mouth  with  peeoUar  giaM^ 
and  wae  as  much  aa  to  say,  "  Put  on  jour  drag  ehain."  B«foff« 
xre  got  home  I  again  walked  too  fast  for  him ;  and  ha  now 
cried  out,  "  'NVhjr,  you  walk  as  if  you  were  pornied  by  all  tha 
Cabin  in  a  body."  In  aa  erening  we  frequently  took  loog 
walks  from  Oxford  into  the  country,  returning  to  supper. 
Once,  in  our  way  home,  we  viewed  the  ruins  of  the  abbeys  of 
Oseney  and  B«wley,  near  Oxford.  After  at  least  aa  bovx'a 
silenoe,  Johnson  said,  "I  viewed  them  with  iadtgnatianl** 
We  had  then  a  long  conversation  on  Gothic  buildings ;  aad  is 
talking  of  the  form  of  old  halls,  he  said,  "  In  these  halls  th« 
fireplace  was  anciently  always  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  till 
the  Whigs  removed  it  on  one  side." — About  this  time  then 
had  been  an  execution  of  two  or  three  criminals  at  Oxford  on 
a  Monday.  Soon  afterwards,  one  day  at  dinner,  I  was  saying 
that  Mr.  Swinton,  the  chaplain  of  the  jail,  and  also  a  frequent 
preacher  before  the  University,  a  learned  man,  but  often 
thoughtless  and  absent,  praaehed  the  condemnation  sermon 
on  repentance,  before  the  convicts,  on  the  preceding  day, 
Sunday ;  and  that  in  the  close  he  told  his  audience  tliat  he 
should  give  them  the  remainder  of  what  he  had  to  say  on 
the  subject  the  next  Lord's  Day.  Upon  which  one  of  our 
company,  a  Doctor  of  Divinity,  and  a  plain  matter-of-fact 
man,  by  way  of  offering  an  apology  for  Mr.  Swinton,  gravely 
remarked  that  he  had  probably  preached  the  same  sermon 
before  the  Univenity :  "  Yes,  sir  (said  Johns<m),  but  the 
University  were  not  to  be  hanged  next  morning." 

*  I  forgot  to  observe  before  that  when  he  left  Mr.  Meeke  (aa 
I  have  told  above),  he  added,  "About  the  same  time  of  life 
Meeke  was  left  behind  at  Oxford  to  feed  on  a  Fellowship,  and 
I  went  to  London  to  get  my  living :  now,  sir,  see  the  differ- 
ence  of  our  literary  characters  ! " ' 

The  following  letter  was  written  by  Dr.  Johnson 
to  Mr.  Chambers,  of  Lincoln  College,  afterwards  Sir 
Robert  Chambers,  one  of  the  judges  of  India  :  ^ 

*  Communicated  by  the  Reverend  Mr.  Thomas  Warton,  who  had 
the  original 


VET.  45]    LIFE    OP   DR,    JOHNSON         223 

TO  MB.  CHAMBEB8,  OP  LINCOLN  COLLEGE 

•  D«AB  Sib,— The  oommission  which  I  delayed  to  trouble 
you  with  at  your  departure,  I  am  now  obliged  to  send  you ; 
and  beg  that  you  will  be  so  kind  as  to  carry  it  to  Mr.  Warton 
of  Trinity,  to  whom  I  should  have  written  immediately,  but 
that  I  know  not  if  he  be  yet  come  back  to  Oxford. 

•  In  the  Catalogue  of  lus.  of  Or.  Brit,  see  vol.  i.  pag.  18 
Mm.  Bodl.  Masttktcm  xt.  martyrum  sub  Julicmo,  auctore 
Theophjflaeto. 

•  It  is  deaired  that  Mr.  Warton  will  inquire,  and  send  word, 
what  will  be  the  cost  of  transcribing  this  manuscript. 

•  VoL  ii.  p.  38,  Num.  10*2,  58,  Coll.  Noy.—Commentaria  in 
Acta  Apoftol.— Comment,  in  Septem  EpittoUu  Caiholicas. 

'He  ia  desired  to  tell  what  is  the  age  of  each  of  these 
manuacripta :  and  what  it  will  cost  to  have  a  transcript  of  the 
two  first  pages  of  each. 

•  If  Mr.  Warton  be  not  in  Oxford,  you  may  try  if  you  can 
get  it  done  by  anybody  else ;  or  stay  till  he  comes,  according 
to  your  own  conrenienoe.    It  is  for  an  Italian  literato. 

'  The  anawer  is  to  be  directed  to  his  Excellency  Mr.  Zon, 
Venetian  Bendent,  Soho  Square. 

*I  hope,  dear  sir,  that  you  do  not  regret  the  change  of 
London  for  Oxford.  Mr.  Baretti  is  well,  and  Miss  Williams ;  ^ 
and  we  shall  all  be  glad  to  hear  from  you,  whenever  you 


_l  'I  presume  she  was  a  relation  of  Mr.  Zachariah  Williams,  who 
died  ia  his  eighty-third  year,  July  12,  1755.  When  Dr.  Johnson  was 
with  me  at  Oxford,  in  1755,  he  gave  to  the  Bodleian  Library  a  thin 
(Quarto  of  twenty-one  pages,  a  work  in  Italian,  with  an  English  transla- 
tion on  the  opposite  page.  The  English  title-page  is  this  :  An  Account 
af  an  A  tttmpt  to  tuctrtain  the  Longitude  at  Sea,  by  an^  exact 
yariation  o/th4  Afofneticai  Needle,  etc.  By  Zachariah  Williams. 
London,  pointed  for  Dodsley,  1755.  The  English  translation,  from  the 
strongest  internal  marks,  is  unquestionably  the  work  of  Johnson.  In 
a  blank  leaf  Johnson  has  written  the  age  and  time  of  death  of  the 
author,  Z.  Williams,  as  I  have  said  above.  On  another  blank  leaf  is 
pasted  a  paragraph  from  a  newspaper,  of  the  death  and  character  of 
Williams,  which  is  plainly  written  by  Johnson.  He  was  very  anxious 
about  placing  this  book  in  the  Bodleian  :  and,  for  fear  of  any  omission 
or  mistake,  he  entered  in  the  great  Catalogue  the  title-page  of  it  with 
his  own  hand.' 

(In  this  statement  there  is  a  slight  mistake.  The  English  account, 
which  was  written  by  Johnson,  was  the  original :  the  Italian  was  a 
tramlation,  done  by  Baretti. — M.] 


224         LIFE   OF   DR,    JOHNSON       [1754 

■hall  be  lo  kiud  m  to  write  to,  ttr,  jonr  mort  bombl* 
servant,  San.  Joimum. 

'Jfov.  21,  1764.* 

The  degree  of  Master  of  ArU,  which,  it  haa  been 
observed,  could  not  be  obtained  for  him  at  an  early 
period  of  his  life,  was  now  considered  as  an  honour 
of  considerable  importance,  in  order  to  grace  the  title- 
page  of  his  Dictionary,  and  his  character  in  the 
literary  world  being  by  this  time  deservedly  high,  his 
friends  thought  that,  if  proper  exertions  were  made, 
the  University  of  Oxford  would  pay  him  the  compli- 
ment. 

TO  THE   REV.  MR.  THOXAS   WARTON 

*Dkar  S^^ — I  am  extreineir  obliged  to  70a  and  to  Mr. 
Wise  for  the  xucommon  care  which  }-ou  have  taken  of  mj 
interest:'  if  you  can  aooompliih  your  kind  design,  I  shall 
certainly  take  me  a  little  habitation  among  70a. 

' The  bookji  which  I  have  promised  to  Mr.  'Wise*  I  have  not 
been  able  to  procure ;  but  I  shall  send  him  a  F1nnieDietio(iar7, 
the  only  copy,  perhaps,  in  England,  which  was  presented  ms 
by  a  learned  Swede :  but  I  keep  it  back,  that  it  may  make  a 
set  of  my  own  books  of  the  new  edition,  with  which  I  shall 
accompany  it,  more  welcome.  You  will  assore  him  of  my 
gratitude. 

'  Poor  dear  Collins !  *  — Would  a  letter  give  him  any 
pleasure?    I  have  a  mind  to  write. 

^  '  In  procuring  bim  the  degree  of  Master  of  Arts  by  diploma  at 
Oxford." 

S  '  Lately  Fellow  of  Trinity  College,  and  at  this  time  Raddivian 
librarian,  at  Oxford.  He  was  a  man  of  very  considerable  learning, 
and  eminently  skilled  in  Roman  and  Anglo-Saxon  antiquities.  He 
died  in  1767.' 

•  '  Collins  (the  poet)  was  at  this  time  at  Oxford,  on  a  \Tsit  to  Mr. 
Warton  ;  but  labouring  under  the  most  deplorable  languor  of  body  and 
dejection  of  mind." 

[In  a  letter  to  Dr.  Joseph  Warton,  written  some  months  before  (March 
8>  *Z54)>  I^''-  Johnson  thus  speaks  of  Collins  : 

'But  how  little  can  we  venture  to  exult  in  any  intellectual  powers 
or  literary  attainments,  when  we  consider  the  condition  of  poor  Collins. 


/ET.  45]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         225 

'  I  am  glad  of  your  hinderance  in  your  Spenserian  design,  ^ 
yet  I  would  not  have  it  delayed-  Three  hours  a  day  stolen 
from  sleep  and  amusement  will  produce  it.  Let  a  Servitor  ^ 
transcribe  the  quotations,  and  interleave  them  with  references 
to  save  time.  This  will  shorten  the  work  and  lessen  the 
fatigue. 

'  CSau  I  do  anything  to  promoting  the  diploma  ?  I  would 
not  be  wanting  to  cooperate  with  your  kindness ;  of  which, 
what«Ter  be  the  effect,  I  shall  be,  dear  sir,  your  most  obliged, 
^^•1  Sam  Johnson. 

'lLondon,]Nov.  28,  1764.* 

TO  THE  SAME 

*  Dkab  Sis, — ^I  am  extremely  sensible  of  the  favour  done 
me,  both  by  Mr.  Wise  and  yourself.  The  book'  cannot,  I 
tliink,  be  printed  in  less  than  six  weeks,  nor  probably  so  soon ; 
and  I  will  keep  back  the  title-page  for  such  an  insertion  as 
yon  seem  to  promise  me.    Be  pleased  to  let  me  know  what 


I  knew  him  a  few  years  ago  full  of  hopes  and  full  of  projects,  versed 
in  many  languages,  high  in  fancy,  and  strong  in  retention.  This  btuy 
and  forcible  mind  is  now  under  the  government  of  those,  who  lately 
could  not  have  been  able  to  comprehend  the  least  and  most  narrow 
of  his  designs.  What  do  you  hear  of  him  ?  are  there  hopes  of  his  re- 
covery ?  or  IS  be  to  pass  the  remainder  of  his  life  in  misery  and  degrada- 
tion T  perhaps  with  complete  consciousness  of  his  calamity.' 

In  a  subsequent  letter  to  the  same  gentleman  (Dec.  24, 1754),  he  thtis 
feelingly  alludes  to  their  unfortunate  friend : 

'  Poor  dear  Collins  !  Let  me  know  whether  you  think  it  would  give 
him  pleasure  if  I  should  write  to  him.  I  have  often  been  near  bis  state, 
and  therefore  have  it  in  great  commiseration.' 

Aeain  :  April  9,  1756 : 

'  What  becomes  of  poor  dear  Collins?  I  wrote  him  a  letter  which  he 
never  answered.  I  suppose  writing  is  verj-  troublesome  to  him.  _  That 
man  u  no  common  loss.  The  moralists  ail  talk  of  the  uncertainty  of 
fortune,  and  the  transltoriness  of  beauty :  but  it  is  yet  more  dreadful 
to  consider  that  the  powers  of  the  mind  are  equally  liable  to  change, 
that  understanding  may  moke  its  appearance  and  depart,  that  it  may 
blaxe  and  expire.' 

See  Bioi^raphical  Menuirt  o/tkt  late  Reverend  Dr.  Joseph  Warton, 
by  the  Reverend  John  Wool,  A.M.,  4to,  1806. 

Mr.  Collins,  who  was  the  son  of  a  hatter  at  Chichester,  was  born 
December  25,  1720,  and  was  released  from  the  dismal  state  here  .so 
pathetically  described  in  1756. — M.]  ^  , 

^  '  Of  publishing  a  volume  of  observations  on  the  best  of  Spenser  s 
works.     It  was  hindered  by  my  taking  pupils  in  this  College.' 

*  '  Yotug  students  of  the  lowest  rank  at  Oxford  are  so  called. 

•  •  His  Dictionary.' 

VOU  I.  P 


226         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1754 

money  I  shall  tend  70a,  for  bauiim  the  exp«BM  of  tiM^Balxt 
and  I  will  take  ear*  that  yon  may  have  it  ready  at  yoor  hand. 

'  I  bad  lately  the  favour  of  a  l«tt«r  from  yoor  fatotlMr,  with 
•ome  account  of  poor  CoUina,  for  whom  I  am  mueh  ooaaer— d. 
I  have  a  notion,  that  by  very  great  t«mpenaoe^  or  mot* 
properly  abetinenoe,  he  may  yet  reeorer. 

'There  b  an  old  English  and  lAtin  book  of  po«na  Iqr 
Barclay,  callml  The  Skip  o/FooU;  at  the  end  of  wbieh  an m 
number  of  Egloguet ;  to  he  writ«a  it,  from  BgloQa,  iriikh  an 
probably  the  fint  in  our  language.  If  you  oannot  find  th* 
book,  I  will  get  Mr.  Dodiley  to  aend  it  you. 

*  I  shall  be  extremely  glad  to  hear  fnnn  you  afain,  to  knoer 
if  the  affair  prooeeds.'  I  have  mentioned  it  to  none  of  my 
friends,  for  fear  of  being  laughed  at  for  my  disappointment. 

'  You  know  poor  Mr.  Dodsley  has  lost  his  wife ;  I  believa 
he  is  much  affected.  I  hope  he  will  not  suffer  ao  much  aa  I 
yet  suffer  fur  the  lose  of  mine. 

Ol  fioi'  f«  f  et  fim  ;  A>vrA  ret  wninStfuip^ 

I  have  ever  since  seemed  to  myself  broken  off  firom  mankind ; 
a  kind  of  solitary  wanderer  in  tha  wild  of  life,  without  any 
direction  or  fixed  point  of  view :  a  gloomy  gaaar  on  the  world 
to  which  I  have  little  relation.  Yet  I  would  andaavour,  by 
the  help  of  you  and  your  brother,  to  supply  the  want  of  doaar 
union  by  friendship :  and  hope  to  have  long  the  pleasnra  of 
being,  dear  sir,  most  affectionately  youra,  Sam.  Jobvsov. 
'  [London,']  Dee.  21,  1754.' 

In  I7fi5  we  behold  him  to  great  advantage ;  hia 
degree  of  Master  of  Arts  conferred  upon  him,  his 
Dictionary  published,  his  corresipondence  animated, 
his  benevolence  exercised. 

TO   THE  REV.  MR.  THOILAS  WABTON 

'  Dkab  Sib, — I  wrote  to  you  some  weeks  ago,  but  beliera 
did  not  direct  accurately,  and  therefore  know  not  whether  you 


1  '  Of  the  degree  at  Oxford.' 

3  [This  verse  is  preserved  by  Suidos,  from  the  BtUtrofkim  of  £uri> 
pides. — Charles  Burnev. 
'  Alas !  but  wherefore  alas  I— mortal  men  are  bom  to  soczow.' — A.  B.] 


.€T.  45]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         227 

had  my  letter.  I  would,  likewise,  write  to  your  brother,  but 
know  not  where  to  find  him.  I  now  begin  to  see  land,  after 
having  wandered,  according  to  Mr.  Warburtou's  phrase,  in 
thia  vaat  sea  of  words.  ^V'hat  reception  I  shall  meet  with  on 
the  shore  I  know  not ;  whether  the  sound  of  bells  and  acclama- 
tions of  the  people,  which  Ariosto  talks  of  in  his  last  Canto, 
or  a  general  murmur  of  dislike,  I  know  not :  whether  I  shall 
find  upon  the  coast  a  Calypso  that  will  court,  or  a  Polypheme 
that  will  resist.  But  if  Polypheme  comes,  have  at  his  eye.  I 
hope,  however,  the  critics  will  let  me  be  at  peace  ;  for  though 
I  do  not  much  fear  their  skill  and  strength,  I  am  a  little  afraid 
of  myself,  and  would  not  willingly  feel  so  much  ill-will  in  my 
bosom  as  literary  quarrels  are  apt  to  excite. 

*  &lr.  Baretti  is  about  a  work  for  which  he  is  in  great  want 
of  Creaeimbeni,  which  you  may  have  again  when  you  please. 

'  There  is  nothing  oonsiderable  done  or  doing  among  us  here. 
We  are  not,  perhaps,  as  innocent  as  villagers,  but  most  of  xis 
■eem  to  be  as  idlA.  I  hope,  however,  you  are  busy;  and 
should  be  glad  to  know  what  you  are  doing.— I  am,  dearest 
sir,  your  humble  servant,  Sam.  Johnson. 

'[London,]^e6.  4,  1766.' 

TO   TUB  SAME 

'Dka»  Sib,— I  received  your  letter  this  day,  with  great 
■enae  of  the  favour  that  has  been  done  me;i  for  which  I 
return  my  most  sincere  thanks:  and  entreat  you  to  pay  to 
Mr.  Wise  such  returns  as  I  ought  to  make  for  so  much  kind- 
ness so  littlo  deserved. 

'  I  sent  Mr.  Wise  the  Lexicon,  and  afterwards  wrote  to  him ; 
but  know  not  whether  he  had  either  the  book  or  letter.  Be  so 
good  as  to  contrive  to  inquire. 

♦But  why  does  my  dear  Mr.  Warton  teU  me  nothing  of 
himself?  Where  hangs  the  new  volume?  3  Can  I  help?  Let 
not  the  past  labour  be  lost  for  want  of  a  litUe  more:  but 
snatch  what  time  you  can  from  the  HaU,  and  the  pupils,  and 


1  '  Hi*  dcK^ee  1 


.    e  bad  now  past ,  according  to  the  usual  fonn,  tht  *"«««<» 

of  the  h;i5r<rf  «Ue«.  ;'but'wa.  not  yet.  finally  gran.te<i,by  the  Uiu- 
^tyrUwa.  cairod  without  a  single  disscnuent  voice. 

s  '  On  Spcasor.' 


228  LIFE   OP   DR.    JOHNSON        [1755 

the  oofTce-houM,  and  the  pArlo,  and  ooinpl»t<  joar  dadgn.— 
I  am,  dear  air,  et«.,  Bam.  Jobbmii. 

'[London,] Feb.  i,nS6.' 


TO  THE   RBV.    MR.   TUOUAM   WARTOK 

'Dbab  Sir,— I  h«<l  ft  lett«r  ImA  week  from  Mr.  Wiee,  bat 
have  yet  heerd  nothing  from  you,  nor  know  in  wh*t  tUmU  mj 
affair  >  itanda ;  of  which  I  bef  700  to  inform  me,  if  joa  oao, 
to-morrow,  by  the  return  of  the  poet. 

'  Mr.  Wiee  eends  me  word  that  he  haa  not  had  the  Flnalo 
Lexicon  yet,  which  I  eent  tome  time  ago ;  and  if  he  haa  it  not* 
you  must  inquire  after  it.  However,  do  not  let  yoor  latMr 
■tay  for  that 

'  Your  brother,  who  ia  a  better  oorrecpondent  than  yoo,  and 
not  much  better,  aenda  me  word  that  yoor  papila  keep  yon  in 
college :  but  do  they  keep  yoa  frcrni  writing  too  ?  Let  tbea, 
at  leaat,  give  you  tiioae  to  write  to,  dear  air,  your  moat  affes- 
tionate,  etc,  Sam.  Jonooir. 

•[LondonlFe6. 13,175&' 

TO  TRB  lAMR 

'  DxAK  StB,— Dr.  King*  waa  with  me  a  few  minutea  before 
yoor  letter ;  this,  however,  ia  the  flrat  inatance  in  which  yoor 
kind  intentiona  to  me  have  ever  been  froatrated.*  I  have  now 
the  full  effect  of  your  care  and  benevolenoe;  and  am  far 
from  thinking  it  a  slight  honour,  or  a  small  advantage ;  ainoe 
it  will  put  the  enjoyment  of  your  eonveraation  more  frequently 
in  the  power  of,  dear  air,  your  moat  obliged  and  affectionate, 

'  Sax.  JoBxaov. 

'P.S. — I  have  enclosed  a  letter  to  the  'Vioe-Chanoellor,* 
which  you  will  read  ;  and  if  you  like  it,  seal  and  give  him. 
'[London,]  Feb.  1755.' 

1  'Of  the  degree.' 

S  '  Principal  of  Saint  Mary  Hall  at  Oxford.  He  brought  with  him 
the  diploma  from  Oxford.' 

*  'I  suppose  Johnson  means  that  my  kiiul  inlention  of  beine  the 
yirst  to  give  him  the  good  news  of  the  degree  being  granted  was 
/rustraied,  because  Dr.  King  brought  it  before  my  intelligence 
arrived.' 

*■  '  Dr.  Huddesford,  President  of  Trinity  College ' 


iET.  46]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON         229 

As  the  public  wiU  doubtless  be  pleased  to  see  the 
whole  progress  of  this  well-earned  academical  honour, 
I  shall  insert  the  Chancellor  of  Oxford's  letter  to  the 
University,*  the  diploma,  and  Johnson's  letter  of 
thanks  to  the  Vice-Chancellor. 

To  THE  Reverend  Db.  Huddesford,  Vice-Chancellor 
of  the  University  of  Oxford  ;  to  be  communicated 
to  the  Heads  of  Houses,  and  proposed  in  Con* 
vocation. 

*Mb.  Viok-Crakobixob  ahs  Gxntlzmek, — Mr.  Samuel 
Johnaon,  who  waa  formerly  of  Pembroke  College,  having  very 
eminently  diitinguished  himself  by  the  publication  of  a  series 
of  eoays,  excellently  calculated  to  form  the  manners  of  the 
people,  and  in  which  the  cause  of  religion  and  morality  is 
everywhere  maintained  by  the  strongest  powers  of  argument 
and  language ;  and  who  shortly  intends  to  publish  a  Dictionary 
of  the  English  tongue  formed  on  a  new  plan,  and  executed 
with  the  greatest  labour  and  judgment ;  I  persuade  myself 
that  I  shall  act  agreeable  to  the  sentiments  of  the  whole  Uni- 
versity in  desiring  that  it  may  be  proposed  in  convocation  to 
confer  on  him  the  degree  of  Master  of  Arts  by  diploma,  to 
which  I  readily  give  my  consent ;  and  am,  Mr.  Vice-Chancellor 
and  Gentlemen,  your  affectionate  friend  and  servant, 

'Arran. 

'  Orosvenor  Street,  Feb.  4,  1755.' 

Term.  S"". 

Hilarii.  *  Diploma  Magistri  Johnson 

1756. 

•  Cakcmxarixts,  Blagistri,  et  Scholares  Universitatis  Oxoni- 
ensis  omnibus  ad  quos  boo  prssens  scriptum  pervenerit, 
■alutem  in  Domino  sempitemam. 

'  Cum  eum  in  finem  gradus  academici  a  majoribus  nostris 
instituti  fuerint,  ut  viri  ingenio  et  doctrina  prsestantes  titulis 
quoque  prseter  caeteros  insignirentur ;  cumque  vir  doctissimus 

»  Exuacted  from  the  Convocation  Register,  Oxford. 


t30         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1755 

SmhimI  JohnMn  •  OoQagio  PwnlmwhfaHnl,  MripU*  tnif  popa- 
lAiiom  morw  infornuuitJbtM  dodom  Uterato  orbl  Hinetmrit ; 
qttin  et  lingua  p»tria  tam  ornuida  torn  ■UbOiflDda  (LcsiooB 
•oflieet  Anglie*nam  lummo  stndio,  cumroo  »  m  Jndido  ooa> 
gMtom  propediem  editunu)  etiam  nunc  utilinimun  impandat 
opemm  ;  Noa  igitar  CanooIUritu,  Magictri,  M  flahokrw  ant^ 
dieti,  ne  virum  da  Uteris  bumanioriboi  opdiM  merittm 
diaUos  inhoDoratom  pnatcraunoa,  in  aolaniii  OoBmotkw 
Doetorom,  Bfagiatronun,  Regentiom,  et  boo  Hafitlum, 
dedmo  die  Meniie  FebroArii  Anno  Domini  MiUeaimo  Septfn- 
genteeimo  Qoinqiugeaimo  quinto  habita,  pncfatom  ▼inua 
Samnelem  Johnson  (oonspirantibos  omniom  laffngiii)  llagie- 
tnim  in  Artihus  rcnnnciarimas  et  eonstitoimos ;  eamqaa^ 
Ttrtute  pnesentis  diplomatis,  singolls  Joribos,  privilegiis  et 
honoribua  ad  istom  gradom  qnaqoa  pertinentibus  fnii  et 
gnadere  Jtusimus. 

*  In  cujos  rei  testimonium  sigillnm  UniTersitatis  Oxoniensis 
pneaentibus  apponi  feoimus. 

*  Datum  in  Domo  nostra  Convocationis  die  9ff  Mendi  Feb. 

Anno  Dom.  pradicto. 

*  Diploma  supra  scriptum  per  Begistrarium  leetum  erat,  et 
ex  deoroto  venerabilis  Domos  oommuni  Univeraitatis  sagillo 
munitum.'  * 

'Londini,  4to.  OaL  Hart.  175& 

'VIRO   REVERENDO  .    .    .    RUDDESFORD,   S.T.P.    ITNITERn- 

TATI8  OXONIENSIS  VICB-CANCEIXARIO  DIOMSBUIO,  S.P.I>. 

'  Sax.  JoHitsoK.* 

'IvoRATus  plane  et  tibi  et  mihi  videar,  nisi  quanto  me 
gaudio  affecerint,  quoa  nuper  mihi  honores  (te,  credo,  auctorc), 
deorerit  Senatus  Aeademicus,  literarum,  quo  tamen  nihil 
lerius,  officio  significcm :  ingratus  etiam,  nisi  oomitatem,  qua 
rir  eximius  '  mihi  veatri  testimonium  amoris  in  manus  tradidit 


1  The  original  is  in  my  possession. 

*  [The  superscription  of  this  letter  was  not  quite  correct  in  the 
forriicr  editions.  It  is  here  given  from  Dr.  Johnson's  original  letter, 
UTW  before  me. — M.l 

*  We  may  conceive  what  a  high  gratification  it  most  have  been  to 
Johnson  to  receive  his  diploma  from  the  hands  of  the  great  Dr.  Ktnjr, 
wbose  principles  were  so  congenial  with  his  o^vn. 


^T.  46]    LIFE    OF    DR,    JOHNSON  231 

■gnoMam  et  landem.  Si  quid  est,  unde  rei  tam  gnto  Mseedat 
gntia,  hoc  ipso  magis  mihi  pUcet,  quod  eo  tempore  in  ordines 
Academioo*  denuo  ooopUtua  mm,  quo  tuam  imminuere  ano- 
toritat«m,  famamque  Oxonii  l»dere,  omnibus  modia  eonantnr 
homines  vafri,  neo  tamen  acuti :  quibus  ego,  prout  viro  um- 
bratioo  licuit,  semper  restiti,  semper  rcstiturus.  Qui  enim, 
inter  has  rerum  procellas,  vel  tibi  yel  Acadcmis  defuerit,* 
ilium  Tirtuti  et  Uteris,  sibique  et  posteris,  defuturum  existima 
Vale.' 

TO  TT?E   RE^'.  Mn.   THOMAS   WARTON 

'  Dkab  Sa, — After  I  received  my  diploma,  I  wrote  jron  a 
letter  of  thanks,  with  a  letter  to  the  Vioe-Chanoellor,  and 
sent  another  to  Mr.  Wise :  but  hare  heard  from  nobody  dnoe, 
and  begin  to  think  myself  forgotten.  It  is  true,  I  sent  you  a 
double  letter,  and  you  may  fear  an  e::i>en8ive  correspondent ; 
but  I  would  have  taken  it  kindly,  if  you  had  returned  it  treble: 
and  what  is  a  double  letter  to  a  peUt/  king,  that  having  fellov- 
thip  and  fims,  can  sleep  without  a  ModuM  in  kit  head  ?  ^ 

'Dear  Mr.  Warton,  let  me  hear  from  you,  and  tell  me 
something,  I  care  not  what,  so  I  hear  it  but  from  you.  Some- 
thing, I  will  tell  you :— I  hope  to  see  my  Dictionary  bound 
and  lettered,  next  week  ',—vaatd  moU  npertnu.  And  I  have 
a  great  mind  to  come  to  Oxford  at  Easter ;  but  you  will  not 
invite  me.  Shall  I  come  uninvited,  or  sUy  here  where  no- 
body perhaps  would  miss  me  if  I  went?  A  hard  choice!  But 
such  is  the  world  to,  dear  sir,  yours,  etc 

'Sax.  JoBiraov* 
•  [London,]  March  80,  1756.' 

TO  THE  SAME 

'I5«A«  SiB,— Though  not  to  write,  when  a  man  can  write  so 
well,  is  an  offence  sufficiently  heinous,  yet  I  shall  pass  it  by. 
I  am  very  glwl  that  the  Vice-Chancellor  was  pleased  with  my 
note.  I  shall  impatiently  expect  you  at  London,  that  we  may 
consider  what  to  do  next.  I  intend  in  the  winter  to  open  a 
BibliotMque,  and  remember,  that  you  are  to  subscribe  a  sheet 

*  'The  words  in  italics  are  allusions  to  passages  in  Mr.  Warton's 
poem,  called  "  The  Prepress  of  Discontent,"  now  lately  published.' 


232         LIFE   OP   DR.    JOHNSON       [175s 

•  year :  let  <u  try,  Ukewiae,  if  w«  eatuuH  puwaMdt  your  brodMT 
to  labteiibe  another.  My  book  ii  now  oominc  in  tuminis  or 
as.  What  will  b«  ita  fate  I  know  not,  nor  think  much,  ba- 
oMua  thinking  ia  to  no  porpoaa.  It  moat  stand  tha  oauaura 
of  tha  ffreat  wlQair  and  ikt  imall ;  of  thoM  that  nndanlMid 
it,  and  that  undentand  it  not.  But  in  all  thia,  I  aoffar  not 
alone ;  every  writer  hat  tbo  same  diffieoltiea,  and  parfafi^ 
every  writer  talka  of  them  more  than  he  thinks. 

*  You  will  be  pleaaed  to  make  my  oomplimenta  to  all  my 
f  rienda ;  and  be  so  kind,  at  every  idle  hour,  aa  to  remembai; 
dear  sir,  yours,  eto.  Sam.  Jomaoa. 

'[London,]  March  SS^  1766.' 

Dr.  Adams  told  me,  that  this  scheme  of  a  Bibliothlque 
was  a  serious  one  ;  for  upon  bis  visiting  him  one  day, 
he  found  his  parlour  floor  covered  with  parcels  of 
foreign  and  English  literary  journals,  and  he  told  Dr. 
Adams  he  meant  to  undertake  a  Review.  '  How,  sir 
(said  Dr.  Adams),  can  you  think  of  doing  it  alone  ? 
All  branches  of  knowledge  must  be  considered  in  it. 
Do  you  know  Mathematics  }  Do  you  know  Natural 
History  } '  Johnson  answered,  '  ^Vliy,  sir,  I  must  do 
as  well  as  I  can.  My  chief  purpose  is  to  give  my 
countrymen  a  view  of  what  is  doing  in  literature  upon 
the  continent ;  and  I  shall  have,  in  a  good  measure, 
the  choice  of  my  subject,  for  I  shall  select  such  books 
as  I  best  understand.'  Dr.  Adams  suggested,  that  as 
Dr.  Maty  had  just  then  finished  his  BibUothique 
Britannique,  which  was  a  well-executed  work,  giving 
foreigners  an  account  of  British  publications,  he  might 
with  great  advantage  assume  him  as  an  assistant.  '  He 
(said  Johnson),  the  little  black  dog  !  I  'd  throw  him 
into  the  Thames.'  The  scheme,  however,  was  dropped. 

In  one  of  his  little  memorandum  books  I  find  the 
following  hints  for  his  intended  Review  or  Literary 


VET.46]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  233 

Journal :  '  The  Annals  of  Literature,  foreign  a$  voetlas 
domestic.  Imitate  Le  Clerk,  Bayle,  Barbeyrac.  In- 
felicity of  Journals  in  England.  Works  of  the  learned. 
We  cannot  take  in  all.  Sometimes  copy  from  foreign 
Journalists.     Always  tell.' 

TO   DR.  BIRCH 

March  89,  1755. 

•  Sir,— I  have  sent  some  parU  of  my  Dictionary,  iuch  tm 
were  at  hand,  for  your  iiupeotion.  The  favour  which  I  beg 
is,  that  if  you  do  not  like  them,  you  will  say  nothing.— I  am, 
sir,  your  most  affectionate  humble  servant, 

*  Saj(.  Johssov.' 

TO  MB.  SAMUEL  J0HX8ON 

Norfolk  Street,  April  23,  1756. 

•  Sib,— The  part  of  your  Diotumairy  which  you  have  favoured 
me  with  the  sight  of,  has  given  me  such  an  idea  of  the  whole, 
that  I  most  sincerely  congratulate  the  public  upon  the  acqui- 
sition of  a  work  long  wanted,  and  now  executed  with  an  In- 
dustry, accuracy,  and  judgment,  equal  to  the  importance  of 
the  subject.  You  might,  perhaps,  have  chosen  one  in  which 
your  genius  would  have  appeared  to  more  advantage,  but  you 
could  not  have  fixed  upon  any  other  in  which  your  labours 
would  have  done  such  substantial  service  to  the  present  age 
and  to  posterity.  I  am  gUd  that  your  health  has  supported 
the  application  necessary  to  the  performance  of  so  vast  a  task; 
and  can  undertake  to  promise  you  as  one  (though  perhaps  the 
only)  reward  of  it,  the  approbaUon  and  thanks  of  every  well- 
wisher  to  the  honour  of  the  English  language.  I  am,  with  the 
greatest  regard,  sir,  your  most  faithful,  and  most  affectionate 
humble  servant,  Tho.  Bibch.' 

Mr.  Charles  Burney,  who  has  since  distinguished 
himself  so  much  in  the  science  of  Music,  and  obtained 
a  Doctor's  degree  from  the  University  of  Oxford,  had 
been  driven  from  the  capital  by  bad  health,  and  was 


234         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [i7S5 

now  residing  at  L^ne  Regit  in  Norfolk.  He  had 
been  so  much  delighted  with  Johnson '•  Rambler,  and 
the  Plan  of  his  Dictionary,  that  when  the  great  work 
was  announced  in  the  newspapers  as  nearly  finished, 
he  wrote  to  Dr.  Johnson,  begging  to  be  informed  when 
and  in  what  manner  his  Dictionary  would  be  pub- 
lished ;  entreating,  if  it  should  be  by  subscription,  or 
he  should  have  any  books  at  his  own  disposal,  to  be 
favoured  with  six  copies  for  himself  and  friends. 

In  answer  to  this  application.  Dr.  Johnson  wrote 
the  following  letter,  of  which  (to  use  Dr.  Bumey's  own 
words),  '  if  it  be  remembered  that  it  was  written  to  an 
obscure  young  man,  who  at  this  time  had  not  much 
distinguished  himself  even  in  his  own  profession,  but 
whose  name  could  never  have  reached  the  author  of 
the  Rambler,  the  politeneM  and  urbanity  may  be 
opposed  to  some  of  the  stories  which  have  been  lately 
circulated  of  Dr.  Johnson's  natural  rudeness  and 
ferocity ' : 

TO  MR.   BVnNEY,  IN   LYXNE   REGIS,  NORFOLK 

'Sni, — If  jou  imagine  that  by  delsTing  my  answer  I  in- 
tended  to  show  any  neglect  of  the  notice  with  which  yon  have 
favoured  mc,  you  will  neither  think  justly  of  yourself  nor  of 
me.  Your  civilities  were  offered  with  too  much  el^ance  not 
to  engage  attention ;  and  I  have  too  mach  pleasure  in  pleasing 
men  like  yoo,  not  to  feel  very  sensibly  the  distinction  which 
you  have  bestowed  upon  me. 

*  Few  consequences  of  my  cndeavonn  to  please  or  to  benefit 
mankind  have  delighted  me  more  than  your  friendship  thus 
voluntarily  offered,  which  now  I  have  it  I  hope  to  keep,  be- 
cause I  hope  to  continue  to  deserve  it. 

'  I  have  no  Dictionaries  to  dispose  of  for  myself,  but  shall 
be  glad  to  have  you  direct  your  friends  to  Mr.  Dodsley,  be- 
cause it  was  by  his  recommendation  that  I  was  employed  in 
the  work. 


yrr.  46]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         235 

*  When  70a  have  leisure  to  think  again  apon  me  let  me  be 
favoured  with  another  letter;  and  another  yet,  when  jon 
have  looked  into  my  Dictionary.  If  you  find  faults,  I  shall 
endeavour  to  mend  them ;  if  you  find  none,  I  shall  think  yoa 
blinded  by  kind  pcotiality :  but  to  have  made  you  partial  in 
his  favour,  will  very  much  gratify  the  ambition  of,  sir,  your 
most  obliged  and  meet  humble  servant.  Sax.  Jomnox. 

*  Oouffh  Square,  Fleet  Street, 

*ApraS,  1756.* 

Mr.  Andrew  Millar,  bookseller  in  the  Strand,  took 
the  principal  charge  of  conducting  the  publication  of 
Johnson's  Dictionary ;  and  as  the  patience  of  the  pro- 
prietors was  repeatedly  tried  and  almost  exhausted  by 
their  expecting  that  the  work  would  be  completed 
within  the  time  which  Johnson  had  sanguinely  sup- 
posed, the  learned  author  was  often  goaded  to  dis- 
patch, more  especially  as  he  had  received  all  the  copy- 
money,  by  different  drafts,  a  considerable  time  before 
he  had  finished  his  task.  When  the  messenger  who 
carried  the  last  sheet  to  Millar  returned,  Johnson  asked 
him,  'Well,  what  did  he  say?' — '  Sir'  (answered  the 
messenger),  *  he  said, Thank  God  I  have  done  with  him.' 
— *  I  am  glad  '  (replied  Johnson  with  a  smile)  'that  he 
thanks  God  for  anything.''  It  is  remarkable,  that 
those  with  whom  Johnson  chiefly  contracted  for  his 
literary  labours  were  Scotchmen,  Mr.  Millar  and  Mr. 
Strahan.  Millar,  though  himself  no  great  judge  of 
literature,  had  good  sense  enough  to  have  for  his 
friends  very  able  men  to  give  him  their  opinion  and 
advice  in  the  purchase  of  copyright ;  the  consequence 

'  Sir  John  Hawkins,  p.  341,  inserts  two  notes  as  having  passed 
fomuilly  between  Andrew  Millar  and  Johnson,  to  the  above  effect. 
1  am  assured  this  was  not  the  case.  In  the  way  of  incidental  remark 
it  w»»  a  pleasant  play  of  raillery.  To  have  deliberately  written  notes 
m  such  temw  would  ba\-e  been  inoro<;e. 


236  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [17SS 

of  which  wa«  hi«  acquuring  a  very  large  fortune,  with 
great  liberality.  Johnson  laid  of  him,  'I  reepect 
Millar,  air;  he  has  raised  the  price  of  literature.' 
The  aune  praise  may  be  justly  given  to  Panckoucke, 
the  eminent  bookiieller  of  Paris.  Mr.  Strahan's  liber- 
ality, judgment,  and  success,  are  well  known. 

TO  BBNNET   LANOTOIf,  ESQ.,  AT  LANOTON,  NEAR  VUMBt, 
IJN0OLJ<8UIRE 

'  Sib, — It  has  been  long  obeerved,  that  men  do  not  sospeet 
faults  which  they  do  not  eommit;  yoor  own  eleganoe  of 
manners,  and  punctuality  of  oomplaiianoe,  did  not  luffer  jou 
to  impute  to  me  that  negUgenoe  of  whieh  I  wm  guilty,  and 
which  I  have  not  eince  atoned.  I  reedved  both  jour  lettan, 
and  received  them  with  pleasure  proportionate  to  the  esteem 
whieh  so  short  an  aoquaintanoe  strongly  impressed,  and  whieh 
I  hope  to  confirm  hy  nearer  knowledge,  though  I  am  afraid 
that  gratification  will  be  for  a  time  withheld. 

*I  have,  indeed,  published  my  book,>  of  which  I  beg  to 
know  your  father's  judgment,  and  yours;  and  I  have  now 
stayed  long  enough  to  watch  its  progress  in  the  world.  It  has, 
you  see,  no  patrons,  and,  I  think,  baa  yet  had  no  opponents, 
except  the  critics  of  the  coffee-house,  whose  outcries  are  soon 
dispersed  into  the  air,  and  are  thought  on  no  more :  from  this, 
therefore,  I  am  at  liberty,  and  think  of  taking  the  opportunity 
of  this  inter>'al  to  make  an  excursion,  and  why  not  then  into 
Lincolnshire?  or,  to  mention  a  stronger  attraction,  why  not 
to  dear  Mr.  Langton  ?  I  will  give  the  true  reason,  which  I 
know  you  will  approve :  I  have  a  mother  more  than  eighty 
years  old,  who  has  counted  the  days  to  the  publication  of  my 
book,  in  hopes  of  seeing  me ;  and  to  her,  if  I  can  disengage 
myself  here,  I  resolve  to  go. 

*  As  I  know,  dear  sir,  that  to  delay  my  visit  for  a  reason 
like  this  will  not  deprive  me  of  yoiir  esteem,  I  beg  it  may  not 
lessen  your  kindness.  I  have  very  seldom  received  an  offer 
of  friendship  which  I  so  earnestly  desire  to  cultivate  and 

1  '  His  Dictionary.' 


JET.  46]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  237 

mature.  I  shall  rejoice  to  hear  from  you  till  I  can  see  you, 
and  will  see  you  aa  soon  aa  I  can ;  for  when  the  duty  that 
calls  me  to  Lichfield  is  discharged,  my  inclination  will  carry 
me  to  Langton.  I  shall  delight  to  hear  the  ocean  roar,  or  see 
the  stars  twinkle,  in  the  company  of  men  to  whom  Nature 
docs  not  spread  her  volumes  or  utter  her  voice  in  vain. 

'Do  not,  dear  sir,  make  the  slowness  of  this  letter  a  pre- 
cedent for  delay,  or  imagine  that  I  approved  the  incivility 
that  I  have  committed ;  for  I  have  known  you  enough  to  love 
yon,  and  sincerely  to  wish  a  farther  knowledge  ;  and  I  assure 
you,  once  more,  that  to  live  in  a  house  that  contains  such  a 
father,  and  such  a  son,  will  be  accounted  a  very  uncommon 
degree  of  pleasure  by,  dear  sir,  your  most  obliged  and  mock 
humble  servant,  Sam.  Johusoh. 

•Afar  8,  1756.' 

TO   THE   BBV.  MB.  THOMAS   WARTON 

*  Dkab  Sir,— I  am  grieved  that  you  should  think  me  capable 
of  neglecting  your  letters,  and  b^  you  will  never  admit  any 
such  suspicion  again.  I  purpose  to  come  down  next  week,  if 
you  shall  be  there ;  or  any  other  week  that  shall  be  more 
agreeable  to  you.  Therefore  let  me  know.  I  can  stay  this 
visit  but  a  week,  but  hitend  to  make  preparations  for  a  longer 
stay  next  time ;  being  resolved  not  to  loM  sight  of  the  Uni- 
versity. How  goes  ApoUonius  ? »  Don't  let  him  be  forgotten. 
Some  things  of  this  kind  must  be  done  to  keep  us  up.  Pay 
my  complimenU  to  Mr.  Wise,  and  aU  my  other  friends.  I 
think  to  come  to  Kettel  HalL*— I  am,  sir,  your  most  affeo- 
Uonate,  etc,  S^«-  Joh«o». 

'[London,]  May  13,  1786.* 

TO  THE  SAMB 

•  Dkab  Sib,— It  is  strange  how  many  things  will  happen  to 
intercept  every  pleasure,  though  it  [be]  only  that  of  two 

1  •  A  translation  of  Apolloniui  Rhodius  was  now  intended  by  Mr. 

a  [Kettel  Hall  is  an  ancient  tenement,  built  about  the  year  1615  by 
Dr.  Ralph  Kettel,  President  of  Trinity  College,  for  the  accommodation 
of  Commoners  of  that  Society.  It  adjoins  the  College  ;  and  was  a  few 
years  ago  converted  into  a  private  house.— M.J 


S38         LIFE   OP   DR.    JOHNSON       [1755 

f  riondi  mMting  io|«th«r.  I  hmn  promiied  myMlf  erery  imy 
to  infonn  70a  when  700  mi^t  aopeot  m«  1  (hiord,  and  hmn 
not  beoB  i^  to  fix  •  lima.  Hm  tint*,  howarcr,  la,  I  think,  1 
iMt  oomo ;  mad  I  prooxiM  mjaaii  to  rapote  in  K«tt«l  H«ll  ooo 
of  the  flnt  nighu  of  the  next  week.  I  em  afnid  my  etary 
with  70a  oennot  be  long;  bot  what  ia  the  inferenoe?  We 
most  endeaTonr  to  make  it  cheerfoL  I  wiah  7oar  brother 
oonld  meet  tu,  that  we  might  go  and  drink  tea  with  Hr.  Wbe 
in  a  body.  I  hope  he  will  be  at  Oxford,  or  at  his  ncet  of 
Britieh  and  Saxon  antiquities.*  I  shall  expeet  to  see  Spenaer 
finished,  and  man7  other  things  begun.  Dodsle7  is  foaa  to 
Tisit  the  Duteh.  The  Dtettonory  sells  welL  The  reet  of  the 
wwld  goee  on  as  it  did.— Dear  lir,  7001  most  affeetionate^  ete.. 

'Sam.  Jotanoa, 
'[Zondon,]  June  10.  176&' 

TO  THS  REV.    MB.    THOMAS   WARTON 

*Dbaa  Sir, — To  talk  of  ooming  to  you,  and  not  7et  eome, 
has  an  air  of  trifling  which  I  would  not  willingly  hare  among 
you ;  and  which,  I  believe,  you  will  not  willingly  impste  to 
me,  when  I  have  told  yon  that,  sinoe  my  promise,  two  of  oar 
partners*  are  dead,  and  that  I  was  sc^ioited  to  stupend  my 
excursion  till  we  oonld  reoover  from  oar  ocatfoaion. 

'  I  have  not  laid  aside  my  porpoee ;  for  every  day  makee 
me  more  impatient  of  staying  from  yon.  But  death,  yoo 
know,  hears  not  supplications,  nor  pays  any  r^ard  to  the 
convenience  of  mortals.  I  hope  now  to  see  yon  next  week ; 
but  next  week  is  but  another  name  for  to-morrow,  which  has 
been  noted  for  promising  and  deceiving. — I  am,  etc, 

*  Sam.  Joaxsojr. 

*  [London,]  June  24,  1755.' 

TO  THE  8AMB 

'Dkab  StB, — I  told  yon  that  among  the  manuscripts  are 
some  things  of  Sir  Thomas  More.  I  beg  you  to  pass  an  hour 
in  looking  on  them,  and  procure  a  transcript  of  the  ten  or 
twenty  first  lines  of  each,  to  be  compared  with  what  I  have ; 

1  '  At  Ellsfield,  a  village  three  miles  from  Oxford.' 
3  '  Booksellers  concerned  in  his  Dictionary.' 


JBT.4(>]    LIFE    OP   DR.    JOHNSON  239 

tlut  I  may  know  whether  they  are  yet  pablighed.    The  mauu- 
•eripta  are  these : 

*  Catalogue  of  BodL  ub.  p^ge  ISS,  f .  3,  Sir  Thomaa  More. 

*L  Fall  of  angels.  S.  Creation  and  fall  of  mankind.  3. 
Determination  of  the  Trinity  for  the  rescue  of  mankind.  4. 
Five  lectures  of  our  Saviour's  pmion.  5.  Of  the  institution 
of  the  sacrament,  three  laetmva.  6w  How  to  receive  the 
blessed  body  of  our  Lord  saeramentally.  7.  Neomenia,  the 
new  moon.  8.  Dc  trittitia,  tadio,  pavort,  tt  oratione  Chriati 
ante  eaptionem  (jut. 

'Catalogue,  page  IM.  Life  of  Sir  Thomaa  More.  Qu. 
Whether  Boper^s?  Page  363.  De  rtaignatione  Magni  SigUli 
tri  mofMtt  Begit  per  D.  Tkomam  Morvmk.  Fiige364.  Mori 
lMfen*io  Morios. 

'  If  you  procure  the  young  gentleman  in  the  library  to  write 
oat  what  you  think  fit  to  be  written,  I  will  send  to  Mr.  Prince 
the  bookseller  to  pay  him  what  you  think  proper. 

'  Be  plesMd  to  make  my  compliments  to  Mr.  Wise,  and  all 
my  friends.— I  am,  sir,  your  affectionate,  etc., 

'  Sam.  JoaxsoH. 

'[London,]  Aug.  7,  1766.' 

The  Dictionary,  with  a  Grammar  and  History  of  the 
English  Language,  being  now  at  length  published, 
in  two  volumes  folio,  the  world  contemplated  with 
wonder  so  stupendous  a  work  achieved  by  one  man, 
while  other  countries  had  thought  such  undertakings 
!it  only  for  whole  academies.  Vast  as  his  powers  were, 
I  cannot  but  think  tliat  his  imagination  deceived  him 
when  he  supposed  that  by  constant  application  he 
might  have  performed  the  task  in  three  years.  Let 
the  Preface  be  attentively  perused,  in  which  is  given, 
in  a  clear,  strong,  and  glowing  style,  a  comprehensive 
yet  particular  view  of  what  he  had  done  ;  and  it  will 
be  evident  that  the  time  he  employed  upon  it  was 
comparatively  short  I  am  unwilling  to  swell  my 
look  with  long  quotations  from  what  is  in  every- 


S40         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1755 

body's  hands,  and  I  believe  there  are  few  proae 
com  positions  in  the  English  language  that  are  read 
with  more  delight,  or  are  more  impreewd  upon  the 
memory,  than  that  preliminary  discourse.  One  of 
its  excellences  has  always  struck  me  with  peculiar 
admiration;  I  mean  the  perspicuity  with  which  he 
has  expressed  abstract  scientific  notions.  As  an  io- 
•tance  of  this  I  shall  quote  the  following  sentence : 
'When  the  radical  idea  branches  out  into  parallel 
ramifications,  how  can  a  consecutive  series  be  formed 
of  senses  in  their  own  nature  collateral?'  We  have 
here  an  example  of  what  has  been  often  said,  and  I 
believe  with  justice,  that  there  is  for  every  thought 
a  certain  nice  adaptation  of  words  which  none  other 
could  equal,  and  which  when  a  man  has  been  so  for- 
tunate as  to  hit,  he  has  attained,  in  that  particular 
case,  the  perfection  of  language. 

The  extensive  reading  which  was  absolutely  necae- 
sary  for  the  accumulation  of  authorities,  and  which 
alone  may  account  for  Johnson's  retentive  mind  being 
enriched  with  a  very  large  and  various  store  of  know- 
ledge and  imagery,  must  have  occupied  several  years. 
The  preface  furnishes  an  eminent  instance  of  a  double 
talent,  of  which  Johnson  was  fully  conscious.  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds  heard  him  say, '  There  are  two  things 
which  I  am  confident  I  can  do  very  well :  one  is  an 
introduction  to  any  literary  work,  stating  what  it  is  to 
contain,  and  how  it  should  be  executed  in  the  most 
perfect  manner ;  the  other  is  a  conclusion,  showing 
from  various  causes  why  the  execution  has  not  been 
equal  to  what  the  author  promised  to  himself  and  to 
the  public. ' 

How  should  puny  scribblers  be  abashed  and  dis- 


«T.  46]     LIFE   OF    DR.    JOHNSON  241 

appointed,  when  they  find  him  displaying  a  perfect 
theory  of  lexicographical  excellence,  yet  at  the  same 
time  candidly  and  modestly  allowing  that  he  *  had  not 
satisfied  his  own  expectations.'  Here  was  a  fair  occa- 
sion for  the  exercise  of  Johnson's  modesty,  when  he 
was  called  upon  to  compare  his  own  arduous  perform- 
ance, not  with  those  of  other  individuals  (in  which 
case  his  inflexible  regard  to  truth  would  have  been 
violated  had  he  affected  diffidence),  but  with  specula- 
Xive  perfection ;  as  he,  who  can  outstrip  all  his  com- 
petitors in  the  race,  may  yet  be  sensible  of  his  deficiency 
when  he  runs  against  time.  Well  might  he  say,  that 
'  the  English  Dictionary  was  written  with  little  assist- 
ance of  the  learned  ' ;  for  he  told  me,  that  the  only 
aid  which  he  received  was  a  paper  containing  twenty 
etymologies,  sent  to  him  by  a  person  then  unknown, 
who  he  was  afterwards  informed  was  Dr.  Pearce, 
Bishop  of  Rochester.  The  etymologies,  though  they 
exhibit  learning  and  judgment,  are  not,  I  think,  en- 
titled  to  the  first  praise  amongst  the  various  parts 
of  this  immense  work.  The  definitions  have  always 
appeared  to  me  such  astonishing  proofs  of  acuteness 
of  intellect  and  precision  of  language,  as  indicate  a 
genius  of  the  highest  rank.  This  it  is  which  marks 
the  superior  excellence  of  Johnson's  Dictionary  over 
others  equally  or  even  more  voluminous,  and  must 
have  made  it  a  work  of  much  greater  mental  labour 
than  mere  Lexicons,  or  Word-Books^  as  the  Dutch 
call  them.  They,  who  will  make  the  experiment 
of  trying  how  they  can  define  a  few  words  of  what- 
ever nature,  will  soon  be  satisfied  of  the  unques- 
tionable justice  of  this  observation,  which  I  can 
assure    my  readers    is  founded   upon   much  study, 

VOL.  I.  9 


242  LIFE    OP    DR.    JOHNSON        [l75S 

and  upon  communication  with  more  minds  than  my 
own. 

A  few  of  his  definitions  must  be  admitted  to  be 
erroneous.  Thus,  Windtcard  and  Leeward,  though 
directly  of  opposite  meaning,  are  defined  identically 
the  same  way ;  ^  as  to  which  inconsiderable  specks  it 
is  enough  to  observe,  that  his  Preface  announces  that 
he  was  aware  there  might  be  many  such  in  so  immense 
a  work ;  nor  was  he  at  all  disconcerted  when  an  in- 
stance was  pointed  out  to  him.  A  lady  once  asked 
him  how  he  came  to  define  Pattern  the  knee  of  a  horse: 
instead  of  making  an  elaborate  defence,  as  she  ex- 
pected, he  at  once  answered,  *  Ignorance,  madam,  pure 
ignorance.'  His  definition  of  Network  has  often  been 
quoted  with  sportive  malignity,  as  obscuring  a  thing 
in  itself  very  plain.  But  to  these  frivolous  censures 
no  other  answer  is  necessary  than  that  with  which  we 
are  furnished  by  his  own  Preface  : 

'To  ezpUin,  requires  the  use  of  tenni  lest  abstruse  than 
that  whidi  ia  to  be  explained,  and  such  terms  cannot  always 
be  found.  For  as  nothing  can  be  proved  bat  by  supposing 
something  intuitively  known,  and  evident  without  proof,  so 
nothing  can  be  defined  but  by  the  use  of  words  too  plain  to 
admit  of  definition.  Sometimes  easier  words  are  changed  into 
harder;  as,  burutZ,  into  sepulture  or  interment;  dry,  into 
deticoative ;  dryneat,  into  ticeUy,  or  aridity ;  fit,  into  par- 
oxytm;  for  the  ea»ie$t  word,  whatever  it  be,  can  never  be 
translated  into  one  more  easy.' 

His  introducing  his  own  opinions,  and  even  preju- 
dices, under  general  definitions  of  words,  while  at  the 


1  [He  owns  in  his  Preface  the  deficiency  of  the  technical  part  of  his 
work  ;  and  be  said,  he  ^ould  be  much  obliged  to  me  for  definitions  ot 
musical  terms  for  his  next  edition,  which  he  did  not  live  to  superintend. 

— BURNEY.] 


iET.  46]  LIFE  OF  DR.  JOHNSON  243 
same  time  the  original  meaning  of  the  words  is  not 
explained,  as  his  Tory,  Whig,  Pension,  Oats,  Excise,^ 
and  a  (ew  more,  cannot  be  fully  defended,  and  must 
be  placed  to  the  account  of  capricious  and  humorous 
indulgence.  Talking  to  me  upon  this  subject  when 
we  were  at  Ashbourne  in  1777,  he  mentioned  a  still 
stronger  instance  of  the  predominance  of  his  private 
feelings  in  the  composition  of  this  work,  than  any  now 
to  be  found  in  it  '  You  know,  sir.  Lord  Gower  for- 
sook the  old  Jacobite  interest  When  I  came  to  the 
word  lUnegado,  after  telling  that  it  meant  "  one  who 
deserts  to  the  enemy,  a  revolter,"  I  added.  Sometimes 
we  say  a  Gower.  Thus  it  went  to  the  press :  but  the 
printer  had  more  wit  than  I,  and  struck  it  out' 

Let  it,  however,  be  remembered,  that  this  indulgence 
does  not  display  itself  only  in  sarcasm  towards  others, 
but  sometimes  in  playful  allusion  to  the  notions  com- 
monly entertained  of  his  own  laborious  task.  Thus  : 
'  Grub  Street,  the  name  of  a  street  in  London,  much 
inhabited  by  writers  of  small  histories,  dictionaries^ 

\  "f.  thu«  definw  Excise :  •  A  hateful  tax  levied  upon  conunodities, 
and  adjudged  not  by  the  common  judges  of  property  but  wretches  hired 
by  those  to  whom  Excise  is  paid.'  The  Commissioners  of  Excise  beina 
offended  by  this  severe  reflection,  consulted  Mr.  Murray,  then  Attomey- 
Oeneral,  to  know  whether  redress  could  be  legally  obtained.  I  wished 
to  have  OTocured  for  my  readers  a  copy  of  the  opinion  which  he  gave, 
and  which  inay  now  be  justly  considered  as  history :  but  the  mystmoM 
secrecy  of  ORlce  it  seems  unnlH  nnr  n^rmir  !»      I  __    !.».... -.-e t 


j^uiwucrcu  as  aciionaoie:  Out  tUat  it  would  be  more  prudent  in  the 
iward  not  to  prosecute.  lohnson  never  made  the  smallest  alteration  in 
this  passage.  We  find  he  still  retained  his  early  prejudice  against 
Excise;  for  in  the  Idler,  No.  65,  there  is  the  following  very  extra- 
ordinary paragraph  :  'The  authenticity  of  ClamuLmt  hStory,  though 
printed  with  the  sanction  of  one  of  the  first  Universities  of  tlie  world, 
toad  not  an  unexpected  manuscript  been  happily  discovered,  would, 
with  the  help  of  factious  credulity,  have  been  brought  into  question,  by 
the  two  lowest  of  all  human  beings,  a  Scribbler  for  a  party,  and  a 
ComnusMwiier  of  Exase."  The  persons  to  whom  be  alludes  were  Mr. 
John  Oldmixon,  and  George  Ducket,  Esq. 


244  LIFE    OF    DR    JOHNSON        [1755 

•nd  temporary  poem.;  whence  any  mean  production 
..  called  Gruh  Street.'-' UricograpKer,  a  writer  of 
dictionaries,  a  harmlest  drudge.* 

At  the  time  when  he  was  concludinj?  his  rery  elo- 
quent  Preface,  Johnson's  mind  appears  to  have  been  in 
such  a  state  of  depression,  that  we  cannot  contempUte 
without  wonder  the  vigorous  and  splendid  thoughts 
which  so  highly  distinguish  that  performance.      'I 
(»ys  he)  may  surely  be  contented  without  the  praise 
of  perfection,  which  if  I  could  obtain  in  this  gloom  of 
solitude,  what  would  it  avail  me?    I  have  protracted 
my  work  till  most  of  those  whom  I  wished  to  please 
h,.vesunk  into  the  grave;  and  succe«  mixA  miscarriage 
are  empty  sounds.     I  therefore  dismiss  it  with  fririd 
tranquillity,  having  little  to  fear  or  hope  from  censure 
or  from  praise.'    That  this  indifference  was  rather  a 
temporary  than  an  habitual  feeling,  appeani,  I  think, 
from  his  letters  to  Mr.   Warton  ;   and  however  hi 

Z^'Lri  ^°  ^"^"^  *■**'  ^^  "'°'"«°*'  <^rtain  it 
ui  that  the  honours  which  his  great  work  procured 

him  both  at  home  and  abroad,  were  very  grateful 
to  him.  His  friend,  the  F^rl  of  Cork  and  Orrery 
being  at  Florence,  presented  it  to  the  Academia 
della  Crusca.  That  Academy  sent  Johnson  their 
Va^bulario,  and  the  French  Academy  sent  him  their 
Dictwnnaire,  which  Mr.  Langton  had  the  pleasure  to 
convey  to  him. 

It  must  undoubtedly  seem  strange  that  the  conclu- 
sion  of  his  Preface  should  be  expressed  in  terms  so 
despondiiig,  when  it  is  considered  that  the  author  was 
then  only  in  his  forty-sixth  year.  But  we  must 
ascribe  its  gloom  to  that  miserable,  dejection  of  spirits 
to  which  he  was  constitutionally  subject,  and  which 


;et.  46]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         245 

was  aggravated  by  the  death  of  his  wife  two  years 
before.  I  have  heard  it  ingeniously  observed  by  a 
la<ly  of  rank  and  elegance,  that  *  his  melancholy  was 
then  at  its  meridian.'  It  pleased  God  to  grant  him 
almost  thirty  years  of  life  after  this  time ;  and  once 
when  he  was  in  a  placid  frame  of  mind,  he  was  obliged 
to  own  to  me  that  he  had  enjoyed  happier  days,  and 
had  many  more  friends,  since  that  gloomy  hour,  than 
before. 

It  is  a  sad  nying  that  'most  of  those  whom  he 
wished  to  please  had  sunk  into  the  grave ' ;  and  his 
case  at  forty-five  was  singularly  unhappy,  unless  the 
circle  of  his  friends  was  very  narrow.  I  have  often 
thought,  that  as  longevity  is  generally  desired,  and  I 
believe,  generally  expected,  it  would  be  wise  to  be 
continually  adding  to  the  number  of  our  friends,  that 
the  loss  of  some  may  be  supplied  by  others.  Friend- 
ship, *the  wine  of  life,'  should,  like  a  well-«tocked 
cellar,  be  thus  continually  renewed  ;  and  it  is  consolar- 
tory  to  think  that  although  we  can  seldom  add  what 
will  equal  the  generous ^r*/-^rotr<A*  of  our  youth,  yet 
friendship  becomes  insensibly  old  in  much  less  time 
than  is  commonly  imagined,  and  not  many  years  are 
required  to  make  it  very  mellow  and  pleasant 
Warmth  will,  no  doubt,  make  a  considerable  difference. 
Men  of  affectionate  temper  and  bright  fancy  will 
coalesce  a  great  deal  sooner  than  those  who  are  cold 
and  dull. 

The  proposition  which  I  have  now  endeavoured  to 
illustrate,  was  at  a  subsequent  period  of  his  life,  the 
opinion  of  Johnson  himself.  He  said  to  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds,  *If  a  man  does  not  make  new  acquaintance 
as  he  advances  through  life,  he  will  soon  find  himself 


S40         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1755 

left  alone.  A  man,  sir,  ihould  keep  his  friendship 
in  conttant  repair.' 

The  celebrated  Mr.  Wilkes,  whoM  notions  and 
habits  of  life  were  very  opposite  to  his,  but  who  was 
ever  eminent  for  literature  and  vivacity,  sallied  forth 
with  a  little  jeu  d'esprit  upon  the  feIlowinf(  paaiagv 
in  his  Grammar  of  the  English  Tongue,  prefixed  to 
the  Dictionary :  '  //  seldom,  perhaps  never,  begins  anj 
but  the  first  syllable.'  In  an  essay  printed  in  the 
Public  Advertiser,  this  lively  writer  enumerated  manj 
instances  in  opposition  to  this  remark  ;  for  example, 
'The  author  of  this  observation  must  be  a  man  of 
quick  appre-hen-tion,  and  of  a  most  eompre-herurioe 
genius.'  The  position  is  undoubtedly  expressed  with 
too  much  latitude. 

This  light  sally,  we  may  suppose,  made  no  great 
impression  on  our  Lexicographer ;  for  we  find  that  he 
did  not  alter  the  passage  till  many  years  afterwards.^ 

He  had  the  pleasure  of  being  treated  in  a  very 
different  manner  by  his  old  pupil  Mr.  Garrick,  in  the 
following  complimentary  Epigram : 

On  Johnton'f  Dictionary 

'Talk  of  war  with  a  Briton,  he'll  boldlj  advance, 
That  one  English  soldier  will  beat  ten  of  France ; 
Would  we  alter  the  boast  from  the  Bword  to  the  pen. 
Our  odds  are  still  greater,  still  greater  our  men : 
In  the  deep  mines  of  science  though  Frenchmen  may  toil. 
Can  their  strength  be  compared  to  Locke,  Newton,  and  Boyle? 
I^t  them  rally  their  heroes,  send  forth  all  their  powers. 
Their  verse-men  and  prose-men,  then  match  them  with  ours ! 

i  In  the  third  edition,  published  in  1773,  he  left  out  the  words  /«r- 
Jt/tfs  never,  and  added  the  following  par.Trraph  :_ 

*  It  sometimes  begins  middle  or  final  syllables  in  words  compoanded, 
ss  block-head,  or  derived  from  the  Latin  as  cemfrfktnded. 


iET.  46]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  247 

First  Shakespeare  and  Milton,  like  gods  in  the  fight. 
Have  put  their  whole  drama  and  epic  to  flight ; 
In  satire*,  epistles,  and  odes,  would  thej  cope. 
Their  numbers  retreat  before  Dryden  and  Pope ; 
And  Johnson,  well  arm'd  like  a  hero  of  yore, 
Has  beat  forty  French,  >  and  will  beat  forty  more ! ' 

Johnson  this  fear  gave  at  once  a  proof  of  his  bene- 
volence, quickness  of  apprehension,  and  admirable  art 
of  composition,  in  the  assistance  wliich  he  gave  to  Mr. 
Zachariuh  >\'illiam8,  father  of  the  blind  lady  whom  he 
had  humanely  received  under  his  roof.  Mr.  Williams 
had  followed  the  profession  of  physic  in  Wales ;  but 
having  a  very  strong  propensity  to  the  study  of  natural 
philosophy,  had  made  many  ingenious  advances  to- 
wards a  discovery  of  the  longitude,  and  repaired  to 
J>ondon  in  hopes  of  obtaining  the  great  parliamentary 
reward.  He  failed  of  success ;  but  Johnson  having 
made  himself  master  of  his  principles  and  experiments, 
wrote  for  him  a  pamphlet,  published  in  quarto,  with 
the  following  title:  An  Account  of  an  Attempt  to  ascer- 
tain the  Longitude  at  Hea  by  an  exact  T/teory  of  the 
Variation  of  the  Magtieiical  Needle;  with  a  Table  of  the 
Variations  at  the  most  remarkable  Cities  in  Europe, 
from  the  year  IGCO  to  1060.  To  diffuse  it  more 
extensively,  it  was  accompanied  with  an  Italian  trans- 
lation on  the  opposite  page,  which  it  is  supposed  was 
the  work  of  Signor  Baretti,'^  an  Italian  of  considerable 
literature,  who  having  come  to  England  a  few  years 

1  The  number  of  the  French  Academy  employed  in  settling  their 
language.  ,  „•    . 

»  [This  ingenious  foreigner,  who  was  a  native  of  Piedmont,  came  to 
England  about  the  year  1753,  and  died  in  London,  Mav  5i  »789-  .  A 
very  candid  and  judicious  account  of  him  and  his  works,  beginning 
with  the  words  '  tio  much  a'sperity,"  and  written,  it  is  believed,  by  a 
distinguished  dignitary  in  the  Church,  may  be  found  in  the  Gentleman  t 
Afagtuin*  for  tluit  year,  p.  469.— M.] 


248         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1755 

before,  had  been  employed  both  in  the  eapscity  of  m 
language-master  and  an  author,  and  formed  an 
intimacy  with  Dr.  Johnson.  This  pamphlet  Johnson 
presented  to  the  Bodleian  Library.^  On  a  blank  leaf 
of  it  is  pasted  a  paragraph  cut  out  of  a  newspaper, 
containing  an  account  of  the  death  and  character  of 
Williams,  plainly  written  by  Johnson.' 

In  July  this  year  he  had  formed  some  scheme  of 
mental  improvement,  the  particular  purpose  of  which 
does  not  appear.  But  we  find  in  his  Prayers  and 
Meditationt,  p.  25,  a  prayer  entitled  *  On  the  Study  of 
Philosophy,  as  an  instrument  of  living ' ;  and  after  it 
follows  a  note,  'This  study  was  not  pursued.' 

Ou  the  ISth  of  the  same  month  he  wrote  in  his 
Journal  the  following  scheme  of  life  for  Sunday : 
'Having  lived  (as  he  with  tenderness  of  conscience 
expresses  himself)  not  without  an  habitual  reverence 
for  the  Sabbath,  yet  Mithuut  that  attention  to  its 
religious  duties  which  Christianity  requires : 

'  1.  To  rise  early,  and  in  ordw  to  it,  to  go  to  sleep  early  on 
Saturday. 

*  8.  To  UM  some  extraordioar;  devotion  in  the  morning. 

*3.  To  examine  the  tenor  of  mj  life,  and  particularly  the 
lost  week ;  and  to  mark  my  advances  in  religion,  or  reoenioo 
from  it. 

'4.  To  read  the  Scripture  methodically  with  such  helps  as 
are  at  band. 


1  See  note  by  Mr.  Wanon,  p.  933  [from  which  it  appean  that 
'x2th'  in  the  next  note  means  the  i3th  of  July  1755. — M.]. 

*  '  On  Saturday  the  12th,  about  t\vcU-e  at  night,  died  Mr.  Zachariah 
Williams,  in  his  eiefaty-thixd  year,  after  an  illness  of  eight  months,  in 
full  possession  of  his  mental  faculties.^  He  has  been  Ton);  luiown  to 
philosophers  and  seamen  for  his  skill  in  mag;netism,  and  bis  proposal 
to  ascertain  the  longitude  by  a  peculiar  lystcm  of  the  variation  of  the 
compass.  He  was  a  man  of  industry  indefatigable,  of  conversatioo 
inofl^nsive,  patient  of  adversity  and  disease,  eminently  saber,  temperate, 
and  pious ;  and  worthy  to  have  ended  life  with  better  fortune.' 


VET.  46]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  249 

'5.  To  go  to  ohurch  twice. 

*6.  To  read  books  of  Divinity,  either  speculatiTe  or  prao- 
ticaL 

*7.  To  inatruot  my  family. 

*8.  To  wear  off  by  meditation  any  worldly  soil  oontraetod 
in  the  week.' 

In  1756  Johnson  found  that  the  great  fame  of  his 
Dictionary  had  not  set  him  above  the  necessity  of 
*  making  provision  for  the  day  that  was  passing  over 
him.'*  No  royal  or  noble  patron  extended  a  munifi- 
cent hand  to  give  indei)eadence  to  the  man  who  had 
conferred  stability  on  the  language  of  his  country. 
We  may  feel  indignant  that  there  should  have  been 
such  unworthy  neglect;  but  we  must,  at  the  same 
time,  congratulate  ourselves,  when  we  consider  that 
to  this  very  neglect  operating  to  rouse  the  natural 
indolence  of  his  constitution  we  owe  many  valuable 
productions,  which  otherwise  perhaps  might  never 
have  appeared. 

He  had  spent,  during  the  progress  of  the  work,  the 
money  for  which  he  had  contracted  to  write  his 
Dictionary.  We  have  seen  tliat  the  reward  of  his 
labour  was  only  fifteen  hundred  and  seventy-five 
pounds;  and  when  the  expense  of  amanuenses  and 
paper,  and  other  articles,  are  deducted,  his  clear  profit 
was  very  inconsiderable.  I  once  said  to  him,  *  I  am 
sorry,  sir,  you  did  not  get  more  for  your  Dictionary.' 
His  answer  was,  *  I  am  sorry  too.  But  it  was  very 
welL     The  booksellers  are  generous,  liberal-minded 

1  [He  w»s  so  far  from  being  'set  above  the  necessity  of  making  pro- 
viMon  for  the  day  that  was  passing  over  him,*  that  he  appears  to  have 
been  in  this  year  in  great  pecuniary  distress,  having  been  arrested  for 
debt ;  on  which  occasion  his  friend  Samuel  Richardson  became  hi* 
surety.  See  a  letter  from  Johnson  to  him  on  that  subject,  dated  teb. 
«9.  X756.— Richardson's  CerrufondtHC*,  vol.  v.  p.  383.— M.J 


250         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1756 

men.'  He  upon  all  occamont  did  ample  juttice  to 
their  character  in  this  respect  He  considered  them 
as  the  patrons  of  literature ;  and,  indeed,  although 
they  have  eventually  been  considerable  gminen  by  his 
Dictionary,  it  is  to  them  that  we  owe  its  having  been 
undertaken  and  carried  through  at  the  risk  of  great 
expense,  for  they  were  not  absolutely  sure  of  being 
indemnified. 

On  the  first  day  of  this  year^  we  find  from  Us 
private  devotions,  that  he  had  then  recovered  from 
sickness,'  and  in  February  that  his  eye  was  restored 
to  its  use.'  The  pious  gratitude  with  which  he 
acknowledges  mercies  upon  every  occasion  is  very 
edifying;  as  is  the  humble  submission  which  he 
breathes,  when  it  is  the  will  of  his  heavenly  Father  to 
try  him  with  afHictions.  As  such  dispositions  become 
the  state  of  man  here,  and  are  the  true  effects  of 
religious  discipline,  we  cannot  but  venerate  in  Johnson 
one  of  the  most  exercised  minds  that  our  holy  religion 
hath  ever  formed.  If  there  be  any  thoughtless  enough 
to  suppose  such  exercise  the  weakness  of  a  great 
understanding,  let  them  look  up  to  Johnson,  and  be 
convinced  that  what  he  so  earnestly  practised  must 
have  a  rational  foundation. 

His  works  this  year  were  an  abstract  or  epitome,  in 
octavo,  of  his  folio  Dictionary,  and  a  few  essays  in  a 


1  {In  April  in  this  year  Johnson  wrote  a  letter  to  Dr.  Joseph  Warton 
in  consequence  of  having  read  a  few  pages  of  that  gentleman's  newly 
published  Essay  oh  tht  GtHius  and  Writings  cf  Po^.  The  only 
paragraph  in  it  that  respects  Johnson's  persoiud  lustory  is  this :  *  For 
my  part  I  have  not  lately  done  much.  I  have  been  ill  in  the  winter, 
and  my  eye  has  been  inflamed  ;  but  I  please  mjrself  with  the  hopes  of 
doing  many  things  with  which  I  have  long  pleased  and  deceived 
myself  !'—^/ir»f(Tjrr  rf  Dr.  /.  Warten,  etc.,  4to,  1806.— M.) 

»  Prayers  and  Meditations.  *  Ibid. 


JET.  47]  LIFE  OF  DR.  JOHNSON  251 
monthly  publication  entitled  The  Universal  Visiter. 
Christopher  Smart,  with  whose  unhappy  vacillation  of 
mind  he  sincerely  sympathised,  was  one  of  the  stated 
undertakers  of  this  miscellany ;  and  it  was  to  assist 
him  that  Johnson  sometimes  employed  his  pen.  All 
the  essays  marked  with  two  asterisks  have  been 
ascribed  to  him ;  but  I  am  confident,  from  internal 
evidence,  that  of  these,  neither  'The  Life  of  Chaucer,' 
'  Reflections  on  the  State  of  Portugal,'  nor  an  '  Essay 
on  Architecture,'  were  written  by  him.  I  am  equally 
confident,  upon  the  same  evidence,  that  he  wrote 
'  Farther  Thoughts  on  Agriculture ' ;  being  the 
•equel  of  a  very  inferior  essay  on  the  same  subject, 
and  which,  though  carried  on  as  if  by  the  same  hand, 
is  both  in  thinking  and  expression  so  far  above  it,  and 
so  strikingly  peculiar,  as  to  leave  no  doubt  of  its  true 
parent;  and  that  he  also  wrote  'A  Dissertation  on 
the  State  of  Literature  and  Authors,'  and  *  A  Dis- 
sertation on  the  Epitaphs  written  by  Pope.'  The 
last  of  these,  indeed,  he  afterwards  added  to  his  Idler. 
^V^ly  the  essays  truly  written  by  him  are  marked  in 
the  same  manner  with  some  which  he  did  not  write, 
I  cannot  e.xplain;  but  with  deference  to  those  who 
have  ascribed  to  him  the  three  essays  which  I  have 
rejected,  they  want  all  the  characteristical  marks  of 
Johnsonian  composition. 

He  engaged  also  to  superintend  and  contribute 
largely  to  another  monthly  publication,  entitled  The 
Literary  Magazine,  or  Universal  Review';  the  first 
number  of  which  came  out  in  May  this  year.  What 
were  his  emoluments  from  this  undertaking,  and  what 
other  writers  were  employed  in  it,  I  have  not  dis- 
covered.    He  continued  to  write  in  it,  with  intermis- 


252         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1756 

siotii,  till  the  fifleeuth  number ;  aud  1  think  that  he 
never  gave  better  proofii  of  the  force,  acuteneai,  and 
vivacity  of  his  mind,  than  in  this  mii»cellany,  whether 
we  consider  his  original  essays,  or  his  reviews  of  the 
works  of  others,  llie  '  Preliminary  Address '  to  the 
public  is  a  proof  how  this  great  man  could  embelliah, 
with  the  graces  of  superior  composition,  even  so  trite 
a  thing  as  the  plan  of  a  magazine. 

Ilis  original  essays  are,  'An  Introduction  to  the 
Political  State  of  Great  Britain ' ;  '  Remarks  on  th* 
Militia  Bill ' ;  '  Observations  on  his  Britannic  Majestf't 
Treaties  with  the  Empress  of  Russia  and  the  Laud- 
grave  of  Hcsso  Cassel ' ;  *  Observations  on  the  Present 
State  of  Affairs ' ;  and  '  Memoirs  of  Frederick  ni. 
King  of  Prussia.'  In  all  these  he  displays  extensive 
political  knowledge  and  sagacity,  expressed  with  un- 
common energy  and  perspicuity,  without  any  of 
those  words  which  he  sometimes  took  a  pleasure  in 
adopting,  in  imitation  of  Sir  Thomas  Browne ;  of 
whose  Christian  Moral*  he  this  year  gave  an  edition, 
with  his  Life  prefixed  to  it,  which  is  one  of  Johnson's 
best  biographical  performances.  In  one  instance  only 
in  these  essays  has  he  indulged  his  Brownintu  Dr. 
Robertson,  the  historian,  mentioned  it  to  me,  as  having 
at  once  convinced  him  that  Johnson  was  the  author  of 
the  '  Memoirs  of  the  King  of  Prussia.'  Speaking  of  the 
pride  which  the  old  king,  the  father  of  his  hero,  took 
in  being  master  of  the  tallest  regiment  in  Europe,  he 
says,  'To  review  this  tovoering  regiment  was  his  daily 
pleasure  ;  and  to  perpetuate  it  was  so  much  his  care, 
that  when  he  met  a  tall  woman  he  immediately  com- 
manded one  of  his  Titanian  retinue  to  marry  her, 
that  they  might  propagate  procerity. '     For  this  Anglo- 


MT.A7]  LIFE  OF  ^^  JOHNSON  253 
Ifttin  word  proeerUy,  Johnson  had,  however,  the 
authority  of  Addison. 

His  reviews  ar«  of  the  following  books:   Birch's 
HMory   of   the    Royal    Society  ;     Murphy's    Gray't- 
Jnn  Journal;  Warton's  Ettay  on  the  Writingt  and 
Genitu  of  Pope,  vol.  L ;    Hampton's   Translation  of 
Polybitu;    Blackwell's    Memoirt    of   the    Court    of 
Augustus;   Russel's   Natural  History  of  Aleppo;   Sir 
Isaac    Newton's    Arguments    in    Proof  of  a   Deity; 
Borlaae's  History  of  the  Isles  of  Sicily  ;  Holme's  Experi- 
menu  on  Bleaching ;  Browne's  Christian  Morals  ;  Hales 
On  distilling  Sea-  Water,  Ventilators  in  Ships,  and  curing 
an  ill  Taste  in  Milk ;  Lucas's  Essay  on  Waters ;  Keith's 
Catalogue  of  the  Scottish  Bishops;  Browne's  History 
qf  Jamaica  ;  Philosophical  Transactions,  voL  xlix. ;  Mrs. 
Lenox's  Translation  of  Sully's  Memoirs ;   Miscellanies 
by  Elizabeth  Harrison ;  Evans's  Map  and  Account  of  the 
inddle  Colonies  in  America ;    Letter  on  the  Case  of 
Admiral  Byng  ;  Appeal  to  the  People  concerning  Admiral 
Byng;  Hanway's  Eight  Daytf  Journeii,  and  Essay  on 
Tea ;    The  Cadet,  a  MUitary   Treatise ;  Some  farther 
Particulars  in  relation  to  the  Case  of  Admiral  Byng, 
by  a  gentleman  qf  Oxford ;  The  Conduct  of  the  Ministry 
relating  to  the   present    War    impartially   examined; 
A  Free  Inquiry  into  the  Nature  and  Origin  of  Evil. 
All  these,  from  internal  evidence,  were  written   by 
Johnson :    some  of  them   I   know  he  avowed,   and 
have  marked    them  with    an  asterisk  accordingly.* 
Mr.   Thomas  Davies,   indeed,   ascribed  to    him  the 
review  of    Mr.    Burke's   Inquiry  into   the    Origin  of 
our  Ideas  of  the  Sublime  and  Beautiful;  and  Sir  John 

J  [I  have  omitted  the  asterisk  as  puzzling.    All  Johi«on's  avowed 
wi-itinp  are  included  in  the  collected  ediuons  of  his  works. -A.  B.] 


254         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1756 

HHwkini,  with  equal  discernment,  has  inMited  it 
in  his  collection  of  Johnson's  works :  whereM  it 
has  no  resemblance  to  Johnson's  composition,  mad 
is  well  known  to  have  been  written  by  Mr.  Murphy, 
who  has  acknowledged  it  to  me  and  many  others. 

It  is  worthy  of  remark,  in  justice  to  Johnson's 
political  character,  which  has  been  misrepresented  as 
abjectly  submissive  to  power,  that  his  Obtervatioru  on 
the  present  State  of  Affairt,  glow  with  as  animated  a 
spirit  of  constitutional  liberty  as  can  be  found  anj- 
where.    Thus  he  begins  : 

*  The  time  ia  now  come,  in  whieh  every  EngliAman  expects 
to  be  informed  of  the  national  affairs ;  and  in  which  he  has  a 
right  to  have  that  expectation  gratified.  For,  whatever  maj 
be  urged  bj  ministers,  or  those  whom  vanitj  or  interest  make 
the  followers  of  ministers,  concerning  the  necessity  of  con- 
fidence in  oar  governors,  and  the  presumption  of  prying  with 
profane  eyes  into  the  recesses  of  policy,  it  ia  evident  that  this 
reverence  can  be  claimed  only  by  counsels  yet  unexecuted, 
and  projects  suspended  in  deliberation.  But  when  a  design 
has  ended  in  miscarriage  or  success,  when  every  eye  and 
every  ear  is  witness  to  general  discontent,  or  general  aatiafao- 
tion,  it  is  then  a  proper  time  to  disentangle  confusion  and 
illustrate  obscurity ;  to  show  by  what  causes  every  event  was 
produced,  and  in  what  effects  it  ia  likely  to  terminate ;  to  lay 
down  with  distinct  particularity  what  rumour  always  huddles 
in  general  exclamation,  or  perplexes  by  indigested  narratives ; 
to  show  whence  happiness  or  calamity  is  derived,  and  whence 
it  may  be  expected ;  and  honestly  to  lay  before  the  people 
what  inquiry  can  gather  of  the  past,  and  conjecture  can 
estimate  of  tlie  future.' 

Here  we  have  it  assumed  as  an  incontrovertible 
principle,  that  in  this  country  the  people  are  the 
superintendents  of  the  conduct  and  measures  of  those 
by  whom  government  is  administered  ;  of  the  beneficial 


JET.  47]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  255 

effect  of  which  the  present  reign  afforded  an  illustrious 
example,  when  addresses  from  all  parts  of  the  kingdom 
controlled  an  audacious  attempt  to  introduce  a  new 
power  subversive  of  the  crown. 

A  still  stronger  proof  of  his  patriotic  spirit  appears 
in  his  review  of  an  Ettay  on  Watert,  by  Dr.  Lucas,  of 
whom,  after  describing  him  as  a  man  well  known  to 
the  world  for  his  daring  defiance  of  power,  when  he 
thought  it  exerted  on  the  side  of  wrong,  he  thus 
speaks : 

*  The  Irish  miniiters  drove  him  from  his  native  ooontry  by  a 
prodamatiou,  in  which  they  charge  him  with  crimes  of  which 
they  never  intended  to  be  called  to  the  proof,  and  oppressed 
hjin  by  methods  equally  irresistible  by  guilt  and  innocence. 

'Let  the  man  thus  driven  into  exile,  for  having  been  the 
friend  of  his  country,  be  received  in  every  other  place  as  a 
confessor  of  liberty ;  and  let  the  tools  of  power  be  taught  in 
time,  that  they  may  rob,  but  cannot  impoverish.' 

Some  of  his  reviews  in  this  Magazine  are  very  short 
accounts  of  the  pieces  noticed,  and  I  mention  them 
only  that  Dr.  Johnson's  opinion  of  the  works  may  be 
known  ;  but  many  of  them  are  examples  of  elaborate 
criticism,  in  the  most  masterly  style.  In  his  review 
of  the  Memoirt  of  the  Court  of  Augustus,  he  has  the 
resolution  to  think  and  speak  from  his  own  mind, 
regardless  of  the  cant  transmitted  from  age  to  age,  in 
praise  of  the  ancient  Romans.  Thus :  *  I  know  not 
why  any  one  but  a  schoolboy  in  his  declamation  should 
whine  over  the  Commonwealth  of  Rome,  which  grew 
great  only  by  the  misery  of  the  rest  of  mankind.  The 
Romans,  like  others,  as  soon  as  they  grew  rich,  grew 
corrupt;  and  in  their  corruption  sold  the  lives  and 
freedoms  of  themselves,  and  of  one  another.'  Again  : 
*  A  people,  who  while  they  were  poor  robbed  man- 


iM         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1756 

kind ;  and  as  noon  ai  they  became  rich,  robbed  one 
another.'  In  hi*  review  of  the  Miteelianie*  in  proae 
and  verse,  published  by  Elizabeth  Harrison,  but 
written  by  many  hands,  he  gives  an  eminent  proof  at 
once  of  his  orthodoxy  and  candour : 

*  Tbo  aathors  of  the  essays  In  pros*  seem  geDeially  to  havs 
imitated,  or  tried  to  imitate,  the  oqiionsness  and  loxuriaDOS 
of  Mrs.  Rowe.  This,  however,  is  not  all  their  ptmise ;  th^ 
have  laboured  to  add  to  her  brightness  of  imagery,  hor  parity 
of  sentiments.  The  poets  have  had  Dr.  WatU  before  their 
eyes ;  a  writer,  who,  if  he  stood  not  in  the  first  class  of  geniu; 
compensated  tliat  defoct  bj  a  ready  appUoation  of  his  powers 
to  the  promotion  of  pietj.  The  attempt  to  employ  the  orna- 
ments of  romance  in  the  decoration  of  religion,  was,  I  tldnk, 
first  made  hj  Mr.  Boyle's  Afnrtyrdom  of  Theodora ;  bat 
Boyle's  philosophioal  studies  did  not  allow  him  time  for  the 
cultivation  of  style :  and  the  completion  of  the  great  design 
was  reserved  for  3Irs.  Rowe.  Dr.  Watts  was  one  of  the  first 
who  taught  the  Dissenters  to  write  and  speak  like  other  men, 
by  showing  them  that  elegance  might  consist  with  piety. 
They  would  have  both  done  honour  to  a  better  society,  for 
they  had  that  charity  which  might  well  make  their  failings  be 
forgotten,  and  with  which  the  whole  Christian  world  wish  for 
communion.  They  were  pure  from  all  the  heresies  of  an  sge, 
to  which  every  opinion  is  become  a  favourite  that  the  universal 
church  has  hitherto  detested  I 

'This  praise  the  general  interest  of  mankind  requires  to  be 
given  to  writers  who  please  and  do  not  corrupt,  who  instruct 
and  do  not  weary.  But  to  them  all  human  eulogies  are  vain, 
whom  I  believe  applauded  by  angels,  and  numbered  with  the 
just.' 

His  defence  of  tea  a^inst  Mr.  Jonas  Hanwajr's 
violent  attack  upon  that  elegant  and  popular  i>everage, 
shows  how  very  well  a  man  of  genius  can  write  upon 
the  slightest  subject,  when  he  writes  as  the  Italians 
say,  con  amove  :  I  suppose  no  person  ever  enjoyed 
with  more  relish  the  infusion  of  that  fragrant  leaf 


iET.  47]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  267 

than  Johnson.  The  quantities  which  he  drank  of  it 
at  all  hours  were  so  great^  that  his  nerves  must  have 
been  uncommonly  strong  not  to  have  been  extremely 
relaxed  by  such  an  intemperate  use  of  it  He  assured 
me,  that  he  never  felt  the  least  inconvenience  from 
it ;  which  is  a  proof  that  the  fault  of  his  constitution 
was  rather  a  too  great  tension  of  fibres,  than  the 
contrary.  Mr.  Hanway  wrote  an  angry  answer  to 
Johnson's  review  of  his  enay  on  Tea,  and  Johnson, 
after  a  full  and  deliberate  pause,  made  a  reply  to  it ; 
the  only  instance,  I  believe,  in  the  whole  course  of  his 
life,  when  he  condescended  to  oppose  an3rthing  that 
was  written  against  him.  I  suppose  when  he  thought 
of  any  of  his  little  antagonists,  he  was  ever  justly 
aware  of  the  high  sentiment  of  Ajax  in  Ovid  : 

*  I«te  tulit  pretiam  jam  none  oertaminis  hujus, 
Qui,  cum  victus  erit,  meoom  oertaaae  feretur.' 

M€L  xiiL  19. 

But,  indeed,  the  good  Mr.  Hanway  laid  himself  so  open 
to  ridiciile,  that  Johnson's  animadversions  upon  his 
attack  were  chiefly  to  make  sport. 

The  generosity  with  which  he  pleads  the  cause  of 
Admiral  Byng  is  highly  to  the  honour  of  his  heart  and 
spirit.  Though  Voltaire  affects  to  be  witty  upon  the 
fate  of  that  unfortunate  oflBcer,  observing  that  he  was 
shot  'pour  encourager  le»  autres,'  the  nation  has  long 
been  satisfied  that  his  life  was  sacrificed  to  the  political 
fervour  of  the  times.  In  the  vault  belonging  to  the 
Torrington  family,  in  the  church  of  Southill,  in  Bed- 
fordshire, there  is  the  following  epitaph  upon  his 
monument,  which  I  have  transcribed  : 

VOL.   L  B 


268         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [i7S6 
*To  *aa  nuu'STCAX.  duoeaci 

<V  rOBUO  JlMtSOM, 

no  ■eaomuBUi  Mm  wno,  m^, 

ADKIKAX.  or  TMM   BLUB, 
rSLL  A  KABTTB  TO  POUTKUI. 

nuawunoji, 
KABoa  14,  Of  TBB  TBAB  1757 ; 
wmam  akATBrnr  amv  voxAin 
wtMM  auvmaiMSt  bbcumxtom 
roB  TBB  urn  avd  hoboob  or 

A   BATAL  OmCBB.' 

JohnBon'8  most  extiuisite  critical  eatay  in  the  Liter- 
ary Magazine,  and  indeed  anywhere,  i>  hii  review 
of  Soame  Jenyns's  Inquiry  into  the  Origin  0/  EvU.  ' 
Jenjms  was  poMOMod  of  lively  talents,  and  a  Rtyle 
eminently  pure  and  easy,  and  could  very  happily  play 
with  a  light  subject,  either  in  prose  or  verse  ;  but 
when  he  speculated  on  that  must  difficult  and  excruci- 
ating question,  the  Origin  of  Evil,  he  '  ventured  fiu- 
beyond  his  depth,'  and,  accordingly,  was  exposed  by 
Johnson,  both  with  acute  argument  and  brilliant  wit 
I  remember  when  the  late  Mr.  Bicknell's  humorous 
performance,  entitled  *  The  Musical  Travels  of  Joel 
Collyer,'  in  which  a  slight  attempt  is  made  to  ridicule 
Johnson,  was  ascribed  to  Soame  Jenyns,  '  Ha  !  (said 
Johnson)  I  thought  I  had  given  him  enough  of  it.' 

His  triumph  over  Jenyns  is  thus  described  by  my 
friend  Mr.  Courtenay  in  his  Poetical  Review  of  the 
literary  and  moral  Character  of  Dr.  Johnson ;  a  per- 
formance of  such  merit,  that  had  I  not  been  honoured 
with  a  very  kind  and  partial  notice  in  it,  I  should  echo 


1  [Every  reader  should  make  it  in  hu  bnsiness  to  torn  to  this  Review, 
which  will  be  found  ia  all  collected  editions  of  Johnson.  It  is  a  master- 
piece of  wit,  and  most  characteristic— A.  B.] 


Jei.47]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON         259 

the  sentiments  of  men  of  the  first  taste  loudly  in  its 
praise  : 

*  When  spedotu  aophlsto  with  presumption  scan 
The  aoorce  of  evil  hidden  still  from  man  ; 
Revive  Arabian  tales,  and  vainly  hope 
To  rival  St.  John,  and  his  scholar  Pope : 
Thoogh  metaphysios  spread  the  gloom  of  night, 
By  reason's  star  he  guides  our  aching  sight ; 
The  boonds  of  knowledge  masks,  and  points  the  way 
To  pathless  wastes,  where  wilder'd  si«es  stray : 
Where,  like  a  farthing  luik-boy,  Jenyns  stands. 
And  the  dim  torch  drops  from  his  feeble  hands.'  * 

This  year  Mr.  William  Payne,  brother  of  the  re- 
spectable bookseller  of  that  name,  published  An  Intro- 
duction U>  the  Game  of  Draughts,  to  which  Johnson 

»  Some  time  after  Dr.  J[ohnsoo'»  death  there  appeared  b  the  new»- 
p^pen  and  majiazme*  an  lUiberal  and  petulant  attack  upon  him,  in  the 
form  of  an  Bptttph,  under  the  name  of  Mr.  Soame  jinyns,  -^rj-  un- 
wwthy  of  that  gentleman,  who  had  quietly  submitted  to  the  critical 
lash  while  Johnson  Uved.  It  assumed,  as  characteristics  of  him.  all  the 
vulgar  arcumstances  of  abuse  which  had  circulated  amongst  the 
a£?*^  u  V  "unbecoming  indulgence  oftpuny  lesentment,  at  a 
SSITJ?-^"?"**"  *?****'*n' ■*'*»«=«' «««.a"<l  had  a  near  pro- 
met  at  descendwg  to  the  grave.  I  was  truly  sorry  for  it ;  for  he  was 
then  become  an  avowed,  and  (as  my  Lord  Bishop  of  London,  who  had 
aaenotis coaversation  with  him  on  the  subject,  assures  me) a  sincere 
tJUTsUan,  He  could  not  expect  that  Johnson's  numerous  friends  would 
patiently  bMr  to  have  the  memory  of  their  master  stigmatised  by  no 
ia««i  pen,  but  that,  at  least,  one  would  be  found  to  retort.  Aoird- 
?fyLlr"  ""^'^  •  ■*«*•'><:  Epitaph  was  met  in  the  same  public 
field  by  as  answer,  in  topu  by  no  means  soft,  and  such  as  wanton  pro- 
vocation only  could  justify : 

EPITAPH. 

Prt^ared/or  a  crtaturt  not  quite  dead  ytt. 

*  Here  lies  a  little  ugly  nauseous  elf. 
Who  judging  onlv  from  its  wretched  self, 
Feebly  attempted,  petulant  and  vain. 
The  '  Origin  of  Evil '  to  exi>lain. 
A  mighty  Genius  at  this  ell  displeased, 
With  a  strong  critic  grasp  the  urchin  squeezed. 
For  thirty  years  its  coward  spleen  it  kept. 
Till  m  the  dust  the  mighty  Genius  slept ; 
Then  stunk  and  fretted  in  exjiiring  snuff, 
And  blink'd  at  Johnson  with  its  last  poor  puff.' 


260         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1756 

contributed  a  Dedicatiou  to  the  Earl  of  Rochford, 
and  a  Preface,  both  of  which  are  admirably  adapted 
to  the  treatise  to  which  they  are  prefixed.  Johnson,  I 
l)elieve,  did  not  play  at  draughts  after  leaving  College, 
by  which  he  suffered  ;  for  it  would  have  afforded  him 
an  innocent  soothing  relief  from  the  melancholy  which 
distreMed  him  so  often.  I  have  heard  him  regret  that 
he  had  not  learnt  to  play  at  cards  ;  and  the  game  of 
draughts  we  know  is  peculiarly  calculated  to  fix  the 
attention  without  straining  it.  There  is  a  composure 
and  gravity  in  draughts  which  insensibly  tranquillises 
the  mind  ;  and,  accordingly,  the  Dutch  are  fond  of  it, 
as  they  are  of  smoking,  of  the  sedative  influence  of 
which,  though  he  himself  never  smoked,  he  had  a 
high  opinion.'  Be^tides,  there  is  in  draughts  some 
exercise  of  the  faculties  ;  and  accordingly,  Johnson, 
wishing  to  dignify  the  subject  in  his  Dedication  with 
what  is  most  estimable  in  it,  observes :  '  Trifiers  may 
find  or  make  anj'thing  a  trifle :  but  since  it  is  the 
great  characteristic  of  a  wise  man  to  see  events  in 
their  causes,  to  obviate  consequences,  and  ascertain 
contingencies,  your  Lordship  will  think  nothing  a 
trifle  by  which  the  mind  is  inured  to  caution,  fore- 
sight, and  circumspection.' 

As  one  of  the  little  occasional  advantages  which  he 
did  not  disdain  to  take  by  his  pen,  as  a  man  whose 
profession  was  literature,  he  this  year  accepted  of  a 
guinea  from  Mr.  Robert  Dodsley,  for  writing  the  intro- 
duction to  the  London  Chronicle,  an  evening  news- 
paper ;  and  even  in  so  slight  a  performance  exhibited 
peculiar  talents.      This  Chronicle  still  subsists,  and 


1  Journal  o/a  Tour  to  tht  Hebridtt,  3id  edit.,  pb  48. 


^T.  47]     LIFE   OF  DR.    JOHNSON         261 

from  what  I  observed,  when  I  was  abroad,  has  a  more 
extensive  circulation  upon  the  Continent  than  any 
of  the  Eniflish  newspapers.  It  was  constantly  read 
by  Johnson  himself ;  and  it  is  but  just  to  observe,  that 
it  has  all  along  been  distinguished  for  g^od  sense, 
accuracy,  moderation,  and  delicacy. 

Another  instance  of  the  same  nature  has  been  com- 
municated to  me  by  the  Reverend  Dr.  Thomas  Camp- 
bell, who  has  done  himself  considerable  credit  by  his 
own  writingB.  '  Sitting  with  Dr.  Johnson  one  morn- 
ing alone,  he  asked  me  if  I  had  known  Dr.  Madden, 
who  was  the  author  of  the  premium-scheme'  in  Ireland. 
On  my  answering  in  the  affirmative,  and  also  that  I 
had  for  some  years  lived  in  his  neighbourhood,  etc,  he 
begged  of  me  that  when  I  returned  to  Ireland  I  would 
endeavour  to  procure  for  him  a  poem  of  Dr.  Madden's, 
called  Boulter's  Monument.^  The  reason  (said  he)  why 
I  wish  for  it,  is  this :  when  Dr.  Madden  came  to 
London  he  submitted  that  work  to  my  castigation ; 
and  I  remember  I  blotted  a  g^eat  many  lines,  and 
might  have  blotted  many  more  without  making  the 

1  [In  the  College  of  Dublin  four  quarterly  examinations  of  the 
students  are  held  in  each  year,  in  various  prescribed  branches  of 
literature  and  science ;  and  premiums,  consisting  of  books  impressed 
with  the  College  Arms,  are  adjudged  oy  examiners  to  those  who  have 
most  distingiushed  themselves  in  the  several  classes,  after  a  veiy  rigid 
trial,  which  lasts  two  days.  This  regulation,  which  has  subsisted  about 
seventy  years,  has  been  attended  with  the  most  beneficial  effects. 

Dr.  Samuel  Madden  was  the  first  proposer  of  premiums  in  that 
UniverMty.  They  were  instituted  about  the  year  1734.  He  was  also 
one  of  the  founders  of  the  Dublin  Society  for  the  encouragement  of  arts 
and  agriculture.  In  addition  to  the  premiums  which  were  and  are  still 
annuulT  given  by  that  society  for  this  purpose.  Dr.  Madden  gave 
others  from  his  own  fund.  Hence  he  was  usually  called  '  Premium 
Madden.'— M.) 

•  (Dr.  Hugh  Boulter,  Archbishop  of  Armagh,  and  Primate  of 
Ireland.  He  died  Sept.  a?,  174a,  at  which  tune  he  was,  for  the 
thirteenth  time,  one  of  the  Loros  Justices  of  that  kingdom.  Johnson 
speaks  of  him  in  high  terms  of  commendation  in  his  l.i/i  of  Ambrose 
Philips.— }.  BoswELL,  Junior.] 


2e2         LIFE   OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1757 

poem  worse.'  However,  the  Doctor  wm  very  thank- 
ful and  very  generous,  for  he  gave  me  ten  gniamt, 
which  VHi*  to  me  at  thai,  time  a  great  rum.' 

He  this  year  resumed  his  scheme  of  giving  an 
edition  of  Shakespeare  with  notes.  He  issued  Propowils 
of  considerable  length,'  in  which  he  showed  that  he 
perfectly  well  knew  what  a  variety  of  research  *iiofa 
au  undertaking  required  ;  but  his  indolence  prevented 
him  from  pursuing  it  with  that  diligence  which  alone 
can  collect  those  scattered  fact),  that  genius,  however 
acute,  penetrating  and  luminous,  cannot  discover  by 
its  own  force.  It  is  remarkable,  that  at  this  time  his 
fancied  actinty  was  fur  the  moment  so  vigorous,  that 
he  promised  his  work  should  be  published  before 
Christmas  1757.  Yet  nine  years  elapsed  before  it 
saw  the  light  His  throes  in  bringing  it  forth  had 
been  severe  and  remittent;  and  at  last  we  may  almost 
conclude  that  the  Cssarean  operation  was  performed 
by  the  knife  of  Churchill,  whose  upbraiding  satire, 
I  dare  say,  made  Johnson's  friends  urge  him  to 
despatch. 

'  He  for  sabflcribera  baits  his  hook, 
And  takes  joar  cash ;  bat  where  'a  the  book  ? 
No  matter  where  ;  wise  fear,  you  know, 
Forbids  the  robbing  of  a  foe ; 
Bat  what,  to  Berve  our  private  ends. 
Forbids  the  cheating  of  our  friends  ? ' 

About  this  period  he  was  offered  a  living  of  con- 
siderable value  in  Lincolnshire,  if  he  were  inclined 
to  enter  into  holy  orders.  It  was  a  rectory  in  the  gift 
of  Mr.  Langton,  the  father  of  his  much-valued  friend. 

1  [Dr.  Madden  wrote  very  bad  verses.  VuU  those  prefixed  to 
Lekmd's  Li/e  of  Philip  c/Mtuedtm,  4to,  1758. — Ksarnet.] 

\  They  have  been  reprinted  by  &Ir.  Alalone  in  the  Preface  to  his 
edition  of  Shakespeare. 


*T.  48]    LIFE   OF   DR    JOHNSON         268 

But  he  did  not  accept  of  it ;  partly  I  believe  from  a 
conscientious  motive,  being  persuaded  that  his  temper 
and  habits  rendered  him  unfit  for  that  assiduous  and 
familiar  instruction  of  the  vulgar  and  ignorant,  which 
he  held  to  be  an  essential  duty  in  a  clergyman ;  and 
partly  because  his  love  of  a  London  life  was  so  strong, 
that  he  would  have  thought  himself  an  exile  in  any 
other  place,  particularly  if  residing  in  the  country. 
Whoever  would  wish  to  see  his  thoughts  upon  that 
subject  displayed  in  their  full  force,  may  peruse  the 
Adventurer,  Number  126. 

In  1757  it  does  not  appear  that  he  published  any- 
thing, except  some  of  those  articles  in  the  Literary 
Magazine,  which  have  been  mentioned.  That  Maga- 
sine,  after  Johnson  ceased  to  write  in  it,  gradually 
declined,  though  the  popular  epithet  of  AntigaUiean 
was  added  to  it ;  and  in  July  1768  it  expired.  He 
probably  prepared  a  part  of  his  Shakespeare  this  year, 
and  he  dictated  a  speech  on  the  subject  of  an  address 
to  the  Throne,  after  the  expedition  to  Rochfort,  which 
was  delivered  by  one  of  his  friends,  I  know  not  in 
what  public  meeting.  It  is  printed  in  the  Gentleman's 
Magazine  for  October  1785  as  his,  and  bears  sufficient 
marks  of  authenticity. 

By  the  favour  of  Mr.  Joseph  Cooper  Walker  of  the 
Treasury,  Dublin,  I  have  obtained  a  copy  of  the 
following  letter  from  Johnson  to  the  venerable  author 
of  Disaertatione  on  the  Hietory  of  Ireland  : 

TO   CHARLES  o'cONNOK,    ESQ.^ 

'  Sia, — I  have  lately,  by  the  favour  of  Mr.  Faulkner,  seen 
your  account  of  Ireland,  and  cannot  forbear  to  solicit  a  pro- 

1  [Of  this  gentlemaiii  who  died  at  his  seat  at  Ballinegare,  in  th« 
county  of  Roscommon  jn  Ireland,  July  i,  1791,  in  his  eighty-second 


264         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1757 

Mention  of  yoor  dacign.  Bir  WilliAm  Temple  oompUins  th»t 
InUnd  U  leee  Imown  than  adj  other  eonntrjr,  M  to  ita  MidflBt 
■Ute.  The  nativee  hare  had  little  leisure,  muI  litU*  en- 
oonngement,  for  inquiry ;  and  etrangen,  not  knowtnf  th* 
Ungoage,  have  bad  no  ability. 

'I  have  long  wished  that  the  Irish  literature  were  eolti' 
vated.>  Ireland  is  known  by  tradition  to  have  been  oooe  the 
seat  of  piety  and  learning :  and  sorely  it  would  be  rery  aeeept- 
able  to  all  those  who  are  eorions  either  in  the  original  of 
nations,  or  the  affinities  of  languages,  to  be  fmtlMr  In* 
formed  of  the  revolution  of  a  people  so  andent,  and  onaa  ao 
iUnstriona. 

'What  relation  there  is  between  the  Welsh  and  Irish 
language,  or  between  the  language  of  Ireland  and  that  of 
Biscay,  deserves  inquiry.  Of  these  provindal  and  nnextended 
tongues  it  seldom  happens  that  more  than  one  are  understood 
by  any  one  man ;  and,  therefore,  it  seldom  happens  that  a 
fair  comparison  can  be  made.  I  hope  yon  will  eontinoe  to 
onltiTate  this  kind  of  learning,  which  has  too  Icmg  Iain 
neglected,  and  which,  if  it  be  suffered  to  remain  in  oblivion 
for  another  century,  may,  perhaps,  never  be  ratriarad.  As  I 
wish  well  to  all  useful  undertakings,  I  would  not  forbear  to 
let  you  know  how  much  you  deaerve  in  my  opinion  from  all 
the  lovers  of  study,  and  how  much  pleasure  your  work  has 
given  to,  sir,  your  most  obliged,  and  most  humble  servant, 

'Sam  Johxsov. 

•  Lcmdon,  Apni  9, 1757.' 


year,  some  sccotint  may  be  found  in  the  CtniUnuuit  Magmzint  of  that 

date.— M.] 

1  The  celebrated  orator,  Mr.  Flood,  has  shown  himself  to  be  of  Dr. 
Johnson's  opinion,  having  by  his  will  bequeathed  bis  estate,  after  the 
death  of  his  wife,  Lady  Frances,  to  the  University  of  Dublin ;  'desiring 
that  immediately  after  the  said  estate  shall  come  into  their  possession 
they  shall  appoint  two  professors,  one  for  the  study  of  the  native  Erse 
or  Irish  language,  and  the  other  for  the  study  of  Irish  antiquities  and 
Irish  history,  and  for  the  study  of  any  other  European  language  iUnstra- 
tive  of,  or  auxiliary  to,  the  study  of  Irish  antiquities  or  Iri^  history; 
and  that  they  shall  give  yearly  two  liberal  premiums  for  two  composi- 
tions, one  in  verse,  and  the  other  in  prose,  in  the  Irish  language.' 

[Since  the  above  was  written,  Mr.  Flood's  will  has  been  set  aside, 
after  a  trial  at  bar,  in  the  Court  of  Exchequer  in  Ireland. — M.] 


jfrr.nB]     LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         266 

TO  THE  BEV.  VR.  THOMAS   WARTON 

'Dkab  Sm, — Dr.  Maraili  of  Padtia,  a  learned  gentleman, 
and  good  Lktin  poet,  has  a  mind  to  see  Oxford.  I  have  given 
him  a  letter  to  Dr.  Hoddesford,*  and  ahall  be  glad  if  you  will 
introdooe  him,  and  show  him  anything  in  Oxford. 

'  I  am  printing  my  new  edition  of  Shakegpeare. 

'  I  long  to  see  you  all,  but  cannot  oonreniently  oome  yet 
Yoo  might  write  to  me  now  and  then  if  you  were  good  for  any- 
thing. Bat  honore*  mtUatU  more*.*  Profeaon  forget  their 
friends.  I  shall  certainly  complain  to  &Gm  Jones.* — I  am, 
yonrs,  etc.  Sax  Jobvsok. 

'  [London,]  June  21,  ITUf. 

*  Please  to  make  my  compliments  to  Mr.  Wise.' 

Mr.  Bumey  having  enclosed  to  him  an  extract  from 
the  review  of  his  Dictionary  in  the  Bibliothique  det 
Savant,*  and  a  list  of  subscribers  to  his  Shakespeare, 
which  Mr.  Bumey  had  procured  in  Norfolk,  he  wrote 
the  following  answer : 

TO  MR.  BURNET,  IN  LTNNB,  NORFOLK 

*  Sis, — That  I  may  show  myself  sensible  of  your  favours, 
and  not  commit  the  same  fault  a  second  time,  I  make  haste 
to  answer  the  letter  which  I  received  this  morning.  The  truth 
is,  the  other  likewise  was  received,  and  I  wrote  an  answer; 
but   being  desirous   to   transmit  you   some    proposals  and 


1  '  Now,  or  Ute,  Vice-Chancellor.* 

S  •  Mr.  Warton  was  eleaed  Professor  of  Poetry  at  Oxford  in  the 
preceding  year.' 

S  '  Miss  Jones  lives  at  Oxford,  and  was  often  of  our  parties.  She 
was  a  very  ingenious  poetess,  and  published  a  volume  of  poems :  and, 
on  the  whole,  was  a  most  sensible,  agreeable,  and  amiable  woman.  She 
was  sister  to  the  Reverend  River  Jones,  Chanter  of  Christ  Church 
Cathedral  at  Oxford,  and  Johnson  used  to  call  her  the  Chantress.  I 
have  heard  him  often  address  her  in  this  passage  from  //  Penuroto : 

"  Thee,  Chantress,  ofl  the  woods  among 
I  woo,"  etc. 
She  died  unmarried.'  ^  Tom.  iii.  p.  463. 


266         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1757 

rweipto,  I  wait«d  till  I  oould  find  •  oonvonieDt  ooDvejanei^ 
•od  dAj  WM  pMMd  after  daj,  till  other  thingi  dror*  ft  from 
my  thoogfata;  yet  not  to,  bat  that  I  nm«mb«r  with  gtmi 
flttman  joai  aommflodAtioD  of  my  DieHonary.  Toar  praiM 
«M  welooma,  not  on^  faeeaoM  I  belier*  it  mm  itaem,  bat 
boMoae  praise  hae  been  verj  Marae^  A  man  of  yomr  flaadoar 
will  be  mrpriMd  when  I  tell  you  that  among  all  my  aoqnaint- 
anee  there  were  only  two,  who  upon  the  pablioation  of  my 
book  did  not  endeavour  to  depreee  me  with  threate  of  eensore 
from  the  publio,  or  with  objeetiona  learned  from  thoM  who 
had  learned  them  from  my  own  preface.  Tours  is  the  only 
letter  of  good-will  that  I  have  reoeived ;  though,  indeed,  I  am 
promised  something  of  tliat  sort  from  Sweden. 

'Haw  my  new  edition  1  will  be  reoeived  I  Icdow  not;  the 
subeeription  has  not  l>een  rery  soeoeasfuL  I  shall  publish 
about  March. 

'  If  you  can  direct  me  how  to  send  proposals,  I  should  wish 
tliat  they  were  in  such  hands. 

'I  remember,  sir,  in  some  of  the  first  letters  with  whidi 
you  favoured  me,  you  mentioned  your  lady.  May  I  inqoire 
after  her  ?  In  return  for  the  favours  which  you  have  shown 
me,  it  is  not  much  to  tell  you  that  I  wish  you  and  her  all  that 
can  conduce  to  your  happiness.— I  am,  sir,  your  most  obliged, 
and  most  humble  servant.  Sax  JoBnoir. 

'  Oouffh  Square,  Dec.  24,  1767.' 


1  OfSbakeq>eaTt. 


END  OF  VOIk   I 


Printed  by  T.  and  A.  Constable,  Printers  to  Her  Majesty 
at  the  Edinburgh  University  Ihess 


A